


riverside

by doitsushine92



Series: nct supernatural series [5]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Realism, Mild Smut, Minor Violence, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Polyamory, Romance, Secret Santa, Supernatural Elements, Unreliable Narrator, the first two chapters are filler and mostly unrelated to jaemin's arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 41,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21807190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doitsushine92/pseuds/doitsushine92
Summary: Jaemin never gave much though to what, exactly, it was that saved his life when he was nothing but a child. He always assumed it was a fluke in his nature, a last, desperate resort to escape the hell he lived in. And he never had any reason to think otherwise, because it didn't happen again.Until the day he snaps at Jisung.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Choi San/Na Jaemin, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Lee Taeyong, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Qian Kun, Everyone & Everyone, Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin, Ji Hansol/Moon Taeil, Ji Hansol/Nakamoto Yuta, Ji Hansol/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Nakamoto Yuta, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Kim Jungwoo/Lee Taeyong, Kim Jungwoo/Moon Taeil, Na Jaemin/Park Jisung, Nakamoto Yuta/Qian Kun
Series: nct supernatural series [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1226729
Comments: 90
Kudos: 238





	1. i wish we could open our eyes

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! as i said, midnight city wouldn't be the last of the spn au.... but this is :( riverside will consist of four chapters, and each of these will offer a glimpse into the family: the first two chapters are in the past, and the last two in the present. if there's anything you want to know, ask away on cc and, if it fits the chapters, i'll write it in and if not i'll simply reply on cc

“This house is creepy,” Renjun says. It’s a simple statement of the truth, not said with fear or anything of the sort. It’s a cloudy day, with the sun hiding behind grey cotton balls. Renjun’s shirt sticks to his back like a stubborn child.

Ten hushes him distractedly. The older pixy is busy carrying boxes from the moving truck to the front porch, and he leaves Renjun, as he hasn’t been in years. That is, to say, unattended.

Johnny and Taeil are already inside. They are taking down the boards on the downstairs windows and putting up their curtains, the soft pink ones Taeil received from his mother for his past birthday and the thick, blue ones they use for Taeyong’s benefit. Doyoung is keeping Taeyong accompanied in the car while they wait for the okay to move inside, safe inside the tinted windows. Renjun has the umbrella in hand, as well as an extra bottle of special sunscreen, just in case. But he is also fourteen years old and impatient, so he wanders off.

The house _is_ creepy, Renjun wasn’t lying about that. It’s big and old and dark, three stories tall with an attic and a basement to boot, probably more rooms to spare than they could ever even bother with. There is overgrown weed all around the property and tall, dead trees that lean to the sides, brushing the crumbling architecture. Most of the windows are cracked. Some, in fact, don’t even have glass and all of them boarded up from the inside. The front door used to have boards, too, Renjun hears, but someone removed them when Doyoung contacted the city council to ask for the property and they sent someone to show it to him.

Doyoung relayed the meeting to him, in explicit detail just as Renjun likes. The real estate broker was a harried, middle-aged man with wispy hair and a two o’clock shadow on his face. He held a briefcase under his arm about to overflow with paperwork and he seemed absolutely floored anyone would have any interest in the old bag of bones. However, because he was nothing but a good businessman, he took out his set of keys and showed Doyoung inside. Doyoung said that, to his credit, he did a good job of selling the house to him, even if he had to lie through his teeth about his love for it.

“He nearly creamed his pants when he opened a pantry and a rat came squealing out,” Doyoung said to him cheerily. “And then after a cupboard simply fell off, he stared at it for a good ten seconds.”

Renjun has not seen the inside of the house just yet, but he’s heard plenty from Doyoung when they were supposed to be studying for Taeil’s bi-weekly assessment of his progress. Doyoung insists it is a great purchase and that they can fix anything wrong with it and it can be their project, something for all of them to do together. His eyes sparkled in excitement as he told Renjun, “You’ll get your own room and you’ll get to fix it however you want it, isn’t that exciting?”

Renjun doesn’t doubt Doyoung – he has never led him astray – but he does hesitate at the front step. He could either go inside, follow Ten to the upstairs area to call dibs on a room for himself or unpack their baseball gear so he and Johnny can play catch when they inevitably grow tired of unpacking. Taeyong will play referee from the safety of the porch, covered in special sunscreen and wearing one of Johnny’s endless baseball hats. Doyoung will remind Renjun and Johnny they need to eat before they pass out, Ten will cheer for both sides long after they tell him they’re just tossing the ball back and forth, and Taeil will do his crossword with his pencil between his lips while he thinks. Just their typical Sunday afternoons, how they’ve been for so long.

Or he could ditch the moving all together and go to the basement. Basements, as he learns from movies and books, are always a good place to start in a new house. They hold the secrets of the life of the house, a book in their own way.

It’s chilly inside the house. The air is stale and dusty, all the surfaces covered in thin, white grime, the corners accumulating dirt and the floors in dire need of some loving. It smells like it has been closed off for decades, regardless of the broker coming in that morning to air it out before they arrived with the boxes. The front doors must have been beautiful once, but now they are nothing but two slabs of wood put together. Directly across the grand entrance, underneath the staircase, is a door. Renjun opens it to reveal a set of stairs leading down into the dark basement. He goes back to the entrance hall, leaves the umbrella and sunscreen on the centre table and grabs a flashlight from the pile, one of those that could render you momentarily blind if shone into your eyes by accident, and then he goes downstairs.

The basement is huge. It runs along the length of the house and is big enough that the previous owners – however long ago that was – had the sense of building up walls to separate it into different rooms, like a maze. Some are bigger than the others are, while one is only small enough to turn it into a bathroom, maybe. Renjun can almost see it redone as a powder room, with a toilet in the corner and a nice sink, all white, the walls plastered with blue porcelain. But the boxes and all the furniture left behind are what capture Renjun’s attention.

There are things everywhere. Renjun is fixated on a vanity tucked into a corner of one of the rooms: the mirror is cracked and one of the drawers is missing, but it is in surprisingly good shape. The frame around the mirror has delicate golden carvings, in contrast to the white coat of paint over the structure. There’s a hairbrush with no teeth on the table and some trinkets of jewellery left on the drawers, a few small boxes of rings and earrings here and there. Renjun calls dibs on it.

He also finds some dusty mattresses and old wardrobes – there’s a cool one that’s big enough to fit all of Renjun in it, wings and all, he checks and laughs giddily – and he has the time of his life exploring. There are toys left in boxes, and while he isn’t too interested in those, he finds collectable cards and a set of chess he likes. Some of the pieces are missing, but he can replace them with some others, Renjun thinks, and it would give it more character if not all of the pieces matched exactly.

“Renjun? You down there?”

Renjun curses under his breath. Taeil is looking for him and will most likely have a seizure when he sees him covered head to toe in dust. “Yeah! I’ll be there in a minute!”

He takes the stairs two at a time, more gliding over the boards than stepping on them, and jumps in front of Taeil with a bright smile. Johnny laughs when he sees the white material covering his hair and sneakers, while Taeil, predictably, demands he takes a shower. Renjun flutters his wings, as a reflex, and more dust falls to the ground.

“Hyung, I found the coolest things downstairs, can I keep them?” Renjun pulls his best puppy eyes. _“Please?”_

“What kind of things?” Johnny asks. He’s always quicker to indulge Renjun on his whims than the others are – he’s even faster than Doyoung, and everyone knows Renjun is Doyoung’s favourite. Doyoung won’t admit it but Renjun can see it on his face.

“There’s a vanity and a wardrobe and a game of chess and collectable cards.” Renjun rants about all the things he found, perhaps exaggerating a bit on their coolness. Taeil rolls his eyes and walks away with a huff, muttering about children, but Johnny heads down to the basement with him to check them out.

“It’s so dusty in here.” Johnny’s statement comes along with a cough and a sneeze. “I didn’t know the previous owners left so much stuff. Is that a baby crib? Gosh, that’s creepy.”

“They also separated the basement into rooms,” Renjun confides, as if it weren’t obvious already. He takes Johnny’s hand in his and guides him to where the vanity is, showing it off proudly. “This is it. Can I keep it?”

Johnny looks it over, then his eyes flicker to Renjun’s hopeful face, and he crumbles like a house of cards. “Alright. Do you need help fixing it or –?”

“Nope! I can do it myself!”

Johnny chuckles. “Alright, buddy, you can keep it. What else did you want?”

~

Two weeks later, Renjun runs into Jaemin. The house project has had several step backs already, from problems with the plumbing to a caved down roof to rotten wood to mould, so it has taken a long time to get anything in order. The number one priority on Renjun’s list was the wardrobe, and even that has had to wait for a chance. Renjun, like the others, still has his clothes packed up. They’re sleeping on the den on the mattress they brought from home and, even though it’s cold, it feels like a continuous sleepover and Renjun thinks it’s fun.

After some discussions, Ten and Renjun go out to shop for home electronics and decorations. Taeyong handed them a blank check and told them to go wild, as long they made sure to return with the things they need. Renjun thinks he’d be happy with a new coffee maker, since theirs gave up on them three days ago and they have been stuck using an old thing that only makes enough coffee for one and a half cups, but Taeyong also gave them a list of necessities they absolutely must come home with.

The upper floor of the departmental store has the home gadgets, along with random junk. Renjun and Ten go their own ways, each with a new list, and promise to meet up again in an hour with their set items. Renjun browses the halls with little to no interest, checking the price tags on bags of fridge magnets and little pink elephants meant to decorate coffee tables in the homes of grandmas all over the world. Renjun imagines what it would be like to present Taeyong with one of these, tell him they’re for his bedside table, aware how Taeyong feels of old ladies’ decorations.

Needless to say, he isn’t paying attention to his surroundings, and has no one to blame but himself when he slams into someone else. That doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to blame the other person, however; Renjun has a snarl on the tip of his tongue when he catches sight of the boy and, oh. He’s pretty.

He’s also taller than Renjun and his eyes are big, brown and shiny. There isn’t much baby fat left in his features, or maybe he’s just very skinny, but Renjun can tell they are the same age. Renjun won’t admit it aloud, ever, but he is a little bit star-struck. The boy is wearing a shirt too big on him, and his jeans are definitely baggy, but his skin sports the tell-tale blush of a boy well fed.

“Sorry,” the boy says with a sheepish smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes but still makes his entire face change. “I didn’t see you there, I guess I was distracted.”

Renjun physically forces his tongue to uncurl just long enough to say, “That’s okay. I didn’t see you either.” The embarrassment is fighting its way up to his face, but he forces it down with every ounce of energy he has left in his body that isn’t currently being channelled at not making a fool of himself in front of Pretty Boy.

“I’m Jaemin,” Pretty Boy introduces himself, holding out a hand for Renjun to take.

“Renjun,” Renjun returns the handshake. Neither puts too much strength behind it. Jaemin’s hands feel soft under Renjun’s fingers, if only with leftover callouses from manual work. He smells like the beach and freshly baked bread.

Jaemin rubs the back of his neck, shyly, and doesn’t dare look at Renjun in the face when he says, “I like your wings. They’re very pretty.”

Renjun’s brain short-circuits. He stares, dumbfounded, then takes after Ten and puts Jaemin in a headlock. His arms are skinny and he isn’t too strong, but he thinks the message gets across. He seethes, “Are you crazy? You can’t just say that in public.”

“I think you’re causing more of a scene than I did.” A lady across the aisle stares at them in horror before she turns her cart away and speed walks in the other direction.

Renjun lets him go with a huff. He pats down his t-shirt and rearranges the collar so his wings aren’t so visible anymore, even if Johnny gave him something that’s supposed to hide them from human eyes. He pointedly ignores the goofy grin Jaemin gives him.

~

Their first “play date” features Renjun and Jaemin going off together into the woods behind the house and nearly losing a limb each to a wild centaur they encounter. Renjun still counts it as a magnificent day that he will never forget. The parts he remembers. He’s pretty sure he hit his head and lost some memories here and there.

On that day, Johnny had called in a plumber to change some of the tubes in the house and fix the others. When Renjun and Jaemin run into the house, covered head to toe in dirt and their own blood, laughing like maniacs, the plumber takes one look at them, sighs, and gives Johnny his bill without a word. Johnny takes the offered paper with his usual jovial smile and shows him out of the house, making small talk as he goes. The “adults” – they’re not adults, it’s a generosity to call them such - smother their frustrated eye rolls at the sight of them. After Doyoung ushers the two to the bathrooms upstairs, throws random pieces of clothing at them and tells them to, “Wash up, you look like dirt babies,” Renjun takes Jaemin down to the basement.

The basement, like much of the house, is still untouched. All the windows on the last floor and in the attic remain boarded up and the unoccupied rooms in the house still smell dusty and closed off. Downstairs, the room behind the kitchen, as well as the room down the hall and the one to the right of the staircase, are empty. In the basement, most of the old furniture is right where it was when they moved in, including the vanity Renjun claimed his ownership over that first day. He’s sad he hasn’t been able to fix it, but Taeyong promised to help him bring it upstairs as soon as they have the kitchen ready.

Renjun drags Jaemin all over the basement, shows him the rooms, the furniture, the boxes, the trinkets and the treasures, always looking for the same spark of joy and elation in Jaemin’s eyes. He gets it, for the most part, and that is okay with Renjun. All he wanted was to see the excitement he felt mirrored in someone else. Johnny didn’t count, not really, because it was kind of his job to entertain Renjun and all of his whims.

“Taeyong hyung promised he’d haul this up for me so I could fix it,” Renjun gives the vanity a heartfelt pat, then rummages around the drawers for the bits of jewellery he found there, “and he promised he’d get this back to prime state if I wanted them.”

“You like jewellery?” Jaemin asks. It is not a question meant to ridicule him or said in a mocking tone – Jaemin is genuinely, innocently curious to know. “These are pretty,” he says, holding up a ring with three holes in it, holes no doubt meant to hold diamonds, maybe emeralds or God knows what in them.

Renjun also shows him the one room they’ve cleared in the entire floor – all of its contents sold in a garage sale, the ones in good shape, anyway, and the rest either taken to a dumpster or to recycling – and confides in him, “They promised we could turn this into a rec room and I could do with it whatever I wanted.”

Jaemin’s smile is all teeth, on the right side of feral that doesn’t scare Renjun away. “I already love this house.”

~

Taeil makes the offer to the wolves the next month. They’re having a barbecue in the backyard – which is really a stretch of green grass right at the edge of the forest, said forest that Renjun and Jaemin aren’t allowed to go into anymore -, with Johnny manning the grill, steaks and burgers and chicken breasts being slow cooked with the help of Yuta, while Hansol is in the kitchen with Doyoung, making salad and fries. Jaemin and Renjun are on dessert duty, which in their heads translated as to go crazy with the flour and chocolate chips.

Taeyong is sitting under a beach tent, sunscreen on his nose and sipping at a glass full of B+, his knees curled to his chest and his white covered nose wrinkled in distaste at the food laid out in front of him. There’s a case full of soda cans and beers on the ground next to him and a table full of sauces and appetizers across from his seat.

The house table won’t exist for another few months, so all they have at the moment is a collection of chairs, none following a certain pattern or shape, arranged around a glass table they bought at a home depot. They lay out the food on the surface, spaced out accordingly, and it takes them almost an hour to finish eating. They all keep talking, at and over each other, laughing and spilling their drinks from their excitement.

It feels right. Renjun’s long grown used to this sensation of family and of belonging, but it changes, too, over time and with every addition to their little crew. Two weeks ago, Renjun would have felt strange to be having dinner with Yuta and Hansol at the table with them, but now it’s as if they’ve always been there. And, he knows they all share the sentiment.

Taeil pops the question over dessert. It was Ten’s idea, seeing how close Renjun grew to Jaemin and considering his own growing affection for the two older wolves, but they agreed Taeil would be the one to ask, given his status as the oldest in the house. Johnny was more than happy to pass on the torch, claiming he likes to pick up strays, yes, but Taeil should do some of the job, too.

They’re met with positives almost immediately. Jaemin grins at Renjun, all teeth, and taunts the pixy that now they’ll be sharing a room. There wasn’t any need for them to share, and they knew it, but Renjun actually couldn’t imagine it any other way.

~

The first night, Jaemin doesn’t have his own bed, so he sleeps in Renjun’s. Hansol and Yuta are gone to their apartment with promises to return in the morning, Ten gone with them as predicted, but Jaemin wanted to stay here. Renjun made him promise he wouldn’t say a word about the stuffed bunny he keeps next to his pillow.

“I don’t think I could leave that place again if I went back,” Jaemin chuckles sadly. “So it’s safer if I just stay here.”

The bed shouldn’t be big enough for them, yet they make it work. Jaemin doesn’t seem to mind the wings wrapped around him, either way, so Renjun makes no effort to tuck them away.

“How would you feel about me telling you my deepest, darkest secret?” Jaemin blurts out. Renjun jostles awake and peers at him through the strands of hair that cover his eyes. “Just, you know, sleepover traditions and all.”

“I think we’re supposed to do our nails and gossip first, but alright,” Renjun says. Jaemin smiles but it feels forced.

“I told you how I ran away and lived on the streets until the hyungs found me. But I haven’t told you why I ran away.”

Renjun doesn’t say anything.

“My old family, pack, they were awful. I was the runt, my mom didn’t do much for me and I didn’t have a dad. There was no one there to look out for me, so I guess you could say I’ve been on my own since I learned how to walk and was old enough to eat on my own. I don’t remember how it was before I was nine, but it mustn’t have been so bad. Sure, I was neglected, but they left me alone for the most part.”

Jaemin falls silent, and Renjun fears he’ll start to speak again and there won’t be any return from that. Renjun almost doesn’t want to hear the story, doesn’t want to hear about anyone doing anything to Jaemin in fear it’ll break his heart beyond repair, but he also can’t open his mouth to tell him to stop. Jaemin is about to trust him with something massive, Renjun knows, and all he can do is grip his bunny tighter to brace himself.

“I was very small, because I hardly had enough to eat. And as the kids my age began to grow old, they became meaner. They would push me around, shove me out of the way to get to the food first and I’d be stuck with scraps, if anything at all. But that I could handle. What I couldn’t handle were the adults.”

Renjun’s breathe traps in his throat and refuses to come out. Jaemin isn’t looking at him anymore. “They’d touch me. I ran away when I had the strength but not before they could get to me.

“I don’t want you to say anything,” Jaemin says, his voice suddenly like steel, “to me or to anyone, about this. I never told Yuta or Hansol and I don’t want them to find out. Promise.”

“Promise,” Renjun whispers to the dark.

~

Renjun falls ill one morning. It isn’t like anything he’s experienced before, nothing like Ten has seen on pixies, and it only grows worse with the hours. In the moment he wakes up, his fringe is covered in sweat and his heart is palpitating to its own rhythm, but he chalks it up to the aftershocks of sleeping through the night with Jaemin attached to his back like a koala. Renjun expects all of it to go away after he takes his usual morning shower and drinks at least a glass of water, except it doesn’t.

His temperature continues to spike throughout the day, and the last time anyone dares to check with the Johnson & Johnson thermometer, the little marker goes up to a whooping one hundred and six degrees. Jaemin whines pitifully from the other side of the room that he wants to help, no matter how many times they remind him he’s doing the best he can by staying away, “Your body temperature is too high, Jaem, you could hurt him if you go near him.”

Every attempt made at lowering his temperature falls through. Johnny and Jungeun, one third of the triad of witches living with them at the moment, spend the day looking for anything that might help Renjun’s temperature go down. Yerim, another witch, feeds Renjun tea after tea: herbal teas, floral teas, teas that leave grass leaves stuck to the front of his teeth and seeds at the back of his throat. Nothing works, and as the night falls, the worries only heighten. By 7 o’clock, Renjun is half-unconscious and delirious, shivering and crying and breaking Ten’s heart.

Finally, Johnny has had enough. He asks – barks, orders, it’s all the same – Hansol to fill the tub with cold water, has Yuta and Doyoung dump ice cubes in it until it overflows, and once the job is done, he dunks Renjun head first into the freezing water. He’s half sure the shock will paralyze his heart, but he’ll rather take his chances than watch Renjun burn up from the inside and have an almost definite heat stroke.

By some deity, it works. Renjun awakens from his half-asleep stupor immediately, flailing and gasping and shaking like a thousand leaves in the wind, and his temperature rockets down. Still dripping wet, he’s handed off to Taeyong, who carries him to where Jaemin is waiting with towels. Jaemin is under strict orders not to allow him to fall asleep yet, and more than once he has to resort to slapping his face, with enough strength behind it that Renjun jolts back to the land of the living.

Years later, Renjun won’t remember much of that day. He’ll remember feeling like he’s stuck inside an oven, or rather, like he has an oven inside of him, and then a sudden coldness that has his bones shivering. His eyelashes clumped together from the water and his fingertips are like prunes, and staying awake proves to be an increasingly harder task. Ten will confess to him, after a long time has passed, that he thought he would die. And Renjun believes him, because Ten might be many things, but he doesn’t exaggerate about these things. Hansol will recount the many hallucinations Renjun had, the things he spoke in a monotone voice, about people that would come in and out of his room even when no one else was there.

Those happen a long time after. The one conversation he has after he recovers is with Jaemin. They’re on the rooftop of the house, sitting shoulder to shoulder, Renjun’s wings wrapped around them, Jaemin thumbing the glittery edge of one in fascination. The moon is close to Earth and enough light reflects off the Sun to bathe their faces in eerie, milky light.

“Do you really not remember anything from that day?” Jaemin asks him.

“Nope,” Renjun says, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of the rocks beneath them and the flowers they tend to in tandem. “I only remember my hallucinations and then waking up drenched in cold ass water.”

Jaemin hesitates. Renjun can tell, from the posture of his body to the way his eyes shift anyplace that isn’t Renjun. “You said something to me, before they dunked you in cold water. We were alone in the room. You asked me to get closer, and I did, and then you… I guess you confessed.”

Renjun looks at him, nothing short of bewildered. He has no recollection of saying such thing, but he also doesn’t hear anything in Jaemin’s voice that could indicate a lie. Jaemin just sounds… scared, doubtful, worried, and yes, even a little hopeful.

“How exactly did I do that?” Renjun asks, as cautiously as he can.

Jaemin sighs, long and tired. “You said I was pretty and that sometimes you wondered what it would be like to hold my hand or. Or to kiss me.”

It would be a lie to say Renjun hasn’t thought about that, at least once. He has found himself looking at Jaemin, daydreaming for seconds until he snaps out of it. He doesn’t think he’s gone as far as imagine he kisses him. Hold his hand, yes, definitely, cuddle less than platonically.

“I think I would like to kiss you.” The wind carries Renjun’s voice someplace far away.

The treetops ruffle. The sounds of the forest travel to their ears, a flock of birds rush past above them and, somewhere nearby, a lone wolf cries to the moon. Renjun doesn’t count how long it takes for Jaemin to say something about that, but he does chew on his bottom lip in anticipation.

“I think I would like to kiss you, too,” Jaemin confesses, “I think I’ve wanted to since that first time we climbed into your wardrobe and read scary stories aloud.”

Renjun remembers that. They’ve made it their tradition, to sit inside the wardrobe Renjun was hell bent on having and read Goosebumps books under the light of a flashlight, not suffocating if only because of the holes in the wood that make up the structure. The wardrobe always smells like the detergent they use for laundry and Taeyong’s disinfectant. Their knees always knock together and their faces are always inches apart.

“Then, why don’t you?”

Jaemin’s lips are chapped. Neither of them has experience in kissing and they fumble through it, but Jaemin smiles when it’s over and Renjun thinks that’s enough for him. That’s how they have their first kiss, almost on the very same spot Renjun will kiss someone else years down the line.

~

If anyone notices any difference in the two, they don’t mention it. The renovation goes on, slowly picking up pace until things are finished daily. One day, it’s the first floor bathroom, finally done to perfection. Jaemin chooses the lavender tiles and the sink, while Renjun picks the shower curtain with the ducks. Another day is the living room, decorated on its most part by Ten and Taeyong. Taeil takes over a small room in the basement and turns it into his home office, where he keeps his textbooks, practice exams and other random papers Renjun doesn’t know are for, and he has a window drilled in on the top of one wall, through which enough sunlight streams in.

Hansol helps the two teenagers fix the windows in their room. The French doors were rusty and cracked, so Yuta bought new glass and Doyoung hacked wood from a fallen tree and among the three of them, they could work out a neat new opening to the balcony. Renjun paints the entire room, using his wings to reach the ceiling and then, after the basic coat is finished, he takes the golden paint and adds specks of light to the walls. In the meantime, Jaemin does the bulk of the job and rearranges the little furniture they already had inside to fit the dresser and the wardrobe.

At first, Johnny didn’t want them to work in most things, worried they’d hurt themselves, but once they’ve proven their capacity to move rotten wood out of the way without stepping on nails or somehow managing to kill themselves in the process, he’s more than happy to have their help. Renjun has the eyes of an artist and a knack for interior design, so he, Ten and Taeyong, often times accompanied by Taeil, are set on decoration duty. Johnny says he doesn’t trust himself trying to choose between two colours, Doyoung can’t tell the difference between a futon and a pull-out couch and the wolves admit they feel more comfortable when they’re chopping logs and moving things around.

One evening, as they wolf down their meals as if it’s the last time they’ll ever have the chance to eat again, someone mentions they need to get a proper dining table. The last handful of months the glass table has been handy, but with every visitor and part-time roommate they receive, it becomes more and more obvious that they need to invest in something better. Renjun can’t remember who it was that said it, nor does he remember who suggested building their own table, but the very next day they were going over their wood – kept neatly on a storage shed out back – looking for the best plank they could find.

It takes them three months to finish the job. Renjun and Jaemin are most definitely not allowed to help this time, the odds of them losing a finger or a hand to a tool too great. Instead, they hand over the tools when prompted, and it’s still involvement enough for them not to complain. It’s a fun project, but it quickly falls to the backburner when they realise how much job they have left to do in the house.

The tiny room Renjun wanted to turn into a bathroom in the basement does just that. It makes for a good powder room, and they even buy the blue tiles he wants. With the help of a construction company, they tear down most walls in the basement to make it a big room, instead of small separate ones, and it’s Jaemin’s turn to choose the use for it.

“How about a rec room?” he suggests. It’s nearing the end of 2014, the winter is kicking everyone’s asses and the house has never been more crowded than it is now. In addition to the usual suspects, two of Johnny’s friends are with them, Jongin and Sehun; the three witches are still living in the house, although Jinsol told Doyoung earlier in the week that she had met someone, a nymph named Haseul, and she’s offered the three a place in her family; and there’s Seongwoo and Minhyun, two vampires from Taeyong and Doyoung’s old clan. “We could use the room to hang out, especially if Johnny’s gonna keep bringing in strays.”

“I’ll remind you that you were also a stray,” Johnny says, not looking up to him as he does. He’s busy correcting the kids’ English homework. If everything goes right – and it will – the two will start high school next spring.

Jaemin’s wounded. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says feebly. It’s not the possibility of being misunderstood that has him so upset, however, and Johnny must sense that. It’s the idea that Johnny might see him as a stray, as someone he took in out of duty rather than out of love. Jaemin knows that no matter how friendly or how close they get to their guests, they aren’t part of the family. They’re outsiders. And Johnny hinting at seeing him as such is what turns his voice to a mere whisper.

“I know you didn’t.” Johnny looks up to meet Jaemin’s eyes. “And that’s a great idea, actually. Good job.” Jaemin nods after a second or two, trying his damn hardest not to cry, and later that day Johnny will seek him out to play catch.

So the house is split in two. Half of them work on decorating the rec room – Renjun and Jaemin are excited to pick game consoles and videogames above anything else – and the other half go to town on the upstairs bedrooms, and the table becomes something to do on a Saturday morning. The clerks at every home depot and departmental store in the vicinity have long grown accustomed to their faces, too, and the construction company gives them discounts for the small jobs they hire them to do. For the most part, though, it’s their work.

It’s 2015 when the table is finished. It’s the first time they’re back to being alone, because Johnny hooked up Jongin and Sehun with a witch he met years ago, the three witches left to live with the nymph and the two vampires went on their own. It took a while before they grew used to being on their own again, but Renjun can’t say he doesn’t like it. Sometimes, it’s better when the house is just for them. It’s more intimate like this, and Renjun doesn’t have that little voice at the back of his head telling him he needs to behave.

They first use the table on a Sunday. But first, they move all the furniture in the dining room to make space for it, because it was built especially for the masses. The glass table is put in the foyer instead, and from then on used mostly for tea.

In order to celebrate the finished job, they cook up a feast. There’s more food than they can possibly eat laid out on the table and, much like the first time they sat together for a meal, it takes them over an hour to finish it all. Renjun’s and Ten’s wings flutter in excitement all night long, a sure sign they’re having the times of their lives, and Taeil pretends he doesn’t tear up once or twice just looking at his family.

He still hasn’t figured out how he’s going to explain to his parents that, somehow, he is now in a house with supernatural creatures. Or how he’s going to explain that he has more than one boyfriend – fuck it, he hasn’t even told them he likes boys.

Ten also tears up at one point, but his has more to do with seeing Renjun eat until he has to push the plate – and Jaemin’s hand holding a fork – away because he’s too full and couldn’t possibly eat anything else. He remembers the times he sent him to bed without dinner and smiles through the tears.

Yuta nor Hansol cry, but they share a happy look over the table whenever Jaemin has traces of sauce on his cheeks or nose because he doesn’t know how to eat like a mannered boy. And Jaemin, more aware of things than they give him credit for, smiles behind the rim of his glass every time they smile.

Taeyong and Doyoung watch them all eat while they drink their blood – Jaemin and Renjun bought them a package of twisty straws each, all coloured or shaped like something, and they use them even when the boys aren’t around, because just the fact that they thought about it makes their undead hearts warm - and allow themselves the space to go inside their minds, just a little while, just to make sure everyone’s okay.

Johnny doesn’t have any ground-breaking revelations, and neither does Renjun. They aren’t the type to overanalyse things, after all, and they’re more than happy to live in the present. Renjun does make sure to play footsie with Ten under the table when he notices his misty eyes, and Johnny bugs Taeil until he cracks a smile, though. Because that’s what families are for.

Later that night, Renjun goes into the kitchen for a glass of water. He noticed Jaemin wasn’t in bed – they now had separate beds, but sometimes Jaemin snuck into Renjun’s for old time’s sake – but he figured he was running laps around the house or playing in the rec room. Except he’s proven wrong when he notices the dining room’s lights are on and Jaemin is sitting on the table, hunched over it, in fact.

Renjun steps closer, blinking repeatedly to make sure he isn’t just dreaming it, but there’s no mistaking him. That’s Jaemin, alright.

“Jaem?” Renjun croaks. He clears his throat and tries again, but Jaemin has already seen him. “Jaem? Whatcha doing?”

Jaemin looks guilty. He looks like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, or like someone caught him sneaking out to the woods. And, on top of the guilt, there’s sheer embarrassment. With his curiosity peaked, Renjun finishes the trek to where Jaemin is. On the walk there – five steps – he notices Jaemin has some sort of tool in his hand, and once he’s standing over him he sees it’s a switchblade.

It takes him a few seconds to see what Jaemin was doing. Once his eyes adjust, he sees the two initials carved into the wood, encased in a hasty heart. The job is a little messy but it’s sweet, it’s the sweetest thing Renjun has seen. He plops down next to Jaemin on the bench, not saying anything. Jaemin is avoiding Renjun’s eyes as best as he can, his cheeks reddened like Renjun has never seen them.

“You’re a sap, you know?” Renjun teases him. Jaemin smiles a shadow of a smile, but he’s still embarrassed. Renjun sighs, scoots closer on the bench and ducks his head, trying to catch Jaemin’s eyes with his own. “Hey. Stop avoiding me. What, did you think I’d be mad?”

“Not mad. I thought,” Jaemin hesitates, “I thought that maybe you’d think it was dumb.”

Renjun traces the carving with his finger. His heart tingles and his cheeks turn a bright pink as well, out of delight and happiness. “I think you’re sweet,” he corrects Jaemin, “and I think I want to kiss you now more than ever.”

Years down the line, Renjun will sit at this very bench one day for breakfast and Jeno, - sweet, _sweet_ Jeno - will see the carving and ask about it. And Renjun will tell him the truth; will tell him how he and Jaemin had something unnamed for a year until it faded out, and Jeno will only nod and say something about how he’s glad they stayed friends, and mean it. But Renjun will keep the details to himself, because there’s something about his first love that he wants to keep to his heart.

So he won’t tell Jeno how he kissed Jaemin after he sees the carving. He won’t tell him how he’s never seen Jaemin so gentle with anyone else sans Jisung. And he won’t tell him that he was never able to see Jaemin as just a friend after that.


	2. big plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i know i said two chapters in the past but i had this idea on christmas and thought it would be nice to have something focused on hyung line in the present, so here it is! fair warning, there's a lot of thinking from johnny but i tried to have some fun dialogue as well

It’s late into the night of Christmas eve. In fact, it’s been Christmas for nearly two hours already. The kids – not so kids anymore, but you didn’t hear that from Johnny - are gone to a party with their friends and the adults are left to get wasted on eggnog and to play with the mistletoe. The Christmas tree, lovingly decorated by Chenle and Jisung, later on rearranged by Jaemin because, “There isn’t a single thing on this tree that makes sense, what the fuck is this flower doing here?” shines blue and silver lights across the stance. There are scented candles on the shelves of the far wall and store bought cookies are on the coffee table.

Johnny is tipsy on something that Kun calls sparkly apple juice. The bubbles tickle his throat every time he swallows, though, and the taste is good enough. It doesn’t beat the vodka they have hidden away in the pantry, however. Johnny longs for the moment someone else says fuck it and takes it out of the dark.

“How about we exchange Christmas presents?” Jaehyun suggests. He’s clearly tired, if the yawns he gives every few minutes are any indication. Taeyong has been his pillow for half an hour now, the vampire doing his best not to move too much as so to not bother him. “Let’s do the Secret Santa first and later whatever other gift anyone has.”

Earlier in the day, there had been forty-three carefully wrapped presents under their tree. Three Secret Santa exchanges were planned, one house-wide one where everyone received something, then two smaller ones: the kids had theirs before they left, leaving behind a mess of wrapping paper in their trail, and now they’re about to have the third. Johnny has something for everyone, aside from his secret Santa gifts, but they’re smaller, meant to bring a smile to their faces. He’s been giving them out all day and, so far, his favourite reaction was Donghyuck’s delighted expression upon seeing the small blue envelope reading, “for when you need a hug.”

Jungwoo stretches his long limbs only to curl them back up, making him seem smaller than he is. He’s warm against Johnny’s torso. “Why don’t you start, Jae?”

Jaehyun groans before getting off the couch and making his way to the tree. He has to move a few boxes around, but he finds the one he’s looking for pretty quickly. It’s medium sized and wrapped rather nicely in red paper, little reindeers dancing in the background. “Should I do the cheesy this gift is for bit or are we over that?”

“We’re over that,” Doyoung waves him off. “If I have to listen to Johnny choke on his tears one more time, I swear.”

“Hey!” Johnny cries out. Doyoung sips his red wine – yes, it is wine – while holding steady eye contact.

Jaehyun’s cheeks turn pink as he stands in front of Yuta with the gift. Yuta’s eyes light up and he smiles giddily, standing up. He takes the box from Jaehyun’s hands, carefully since he doesn’t know what’s in it, and then places it on his previous spot on the couch. Next, he takes Jaehyun’s face in his hands and kisses him soundly. Johnny sees a tongue, but he can’t tell whose it is.

They only break apart after several someones make fake gagging noises, and yet they stay close for a second or two. Yuta looks out of his mind with love and Jaehyun is smiling shyly, not one for such displays of affection when there’s an audience. “Merry Christmas,” he rasps out. Jungwoo sounded about the same when he gave Yuta his gift earlier in the evening, regardless of there being children in the room when it happened. Really, Yuta has no shame.

Some of them like to unwrap their gifts carefully so they don’t make a mess, but Yuta has no such qualms. He rips the paper apart excitedly, gasping when the box inside is recognizable. Johnny isn’t too surprised when he sees new soccer shoes were Jaehyun’s chosen gift, considering Jungwoo gifted Yuta with a new soccer ball. Yuta gushes he’ll wear them tomorrow for the soccer game they plan on having with some of their other adult friends, sincerely meaning it.

Jaehyun seems happy he received such a positive response. Johnny thinks it’s to be expected, because Yuta has a soft spot for the young witch. Ever since they moved in with them almost two years ago, Yuta has shown how biased he can be for Jaehyun, taking his side on petty arguments and constantly showering him in kisses, running to him for hugs even before Jaehyun was part of their relationship.

Johnny worried that Jaehyun wouldn’t want anything to do with them, romantically at least, when they told him about it, and not necessarily because of his feelings for him. His main concern was Yuta, who wears his heart on his sleeve behind the tough façade he puts on and who was carrying a torch for Jaehyun from the moment he set eyes on him. Johnny was appointed the one to tell Jaehyun, since the witch clearly had a crush on him, and he’d asked Yuta to be there with him.

Even if Johnny already knew it, he was taken aback by the way Yuta looked at Jaehyun that day in the restaurant. It wasn’t a fancy place or anything of the sorts, a steak house with the best barbecue Johnny’s eaten before, and the three of them sat in a corner table by the front windows. Yuta was sitting next to Johnny, Jaehyun across from them, and Johnny could see from his peripheral vision the lovesick smile on Yuta’s face. It only served to make him queasier about the entire situation, but thankfully, he toned it down when the time for the conversation came.

It was definitely a huge relief when Jaehyun blinked owlishly at them as understanding dawned on him. It wasn’t a yes, not yet, but it was a good reaction. Jaehyun looked from Johnny to Yuta and back, saw something in their eyes that finished explaining it all to him, and he tentatively asked if that was an invitation. Yuta was the one to answer, a breathy yes that sounded as in love as he was. Jaehyun had blushed immensely and stuffed his face with fries, nodding his confirmation without meeting either of their eyes.

“Okay, now it’s Yuta’s turn,” Taeil reminds him. Yuta reluctantly puts his new shoes down, smooches Jaehyun’s cheek for good measure, then goes to the tree. The gift he takes is very clearly a large jar wrapped in yellow, and he presents it to Kun with a flourish.

Kun takes apart the wrapping with care, snorting when he sees what it is. He turns the jar around for everyone to read the message: “kisses for when I’m not around.” There is a cut out picture of Yuta making a kissy face taped underneath, and the jar is filled to the brim with Hershey kisses.

“No homo,” Yuta says.

“I’ve literally had your dick in my mouth.”

“Still.” Kun snorts again, rolling his eyes, but he kisses Yuta’s cheek sincerely as he thanks him. Yuta smiles, all teeth, and kisses Kun in the mouth for good measure.

They’re an odd pair. They aren’t necessarily a couple – in fact, there are very few of them that would say they are boyfriends or partners in the traditional term – but they also love each other just as much as they love the others. Kun is a big fan of everything Yuta does, and Yuta doesn’t hold back on the compliments where Kun is concerned.

They also have something very important in common, and that is Sicheng. The dragon is a favourite in their eyes, and they’re both very affectionate with him. On more than one occasion, however, Sicheng has wiggled out of their grasp, only to push them together. If Johnny thinks about it, that’s how they started out in the first place. Sicheng doesn’t share the same love language as they do, and most days he isn’t one for physical affection. He’s okay with cuddling during a movie, and he’s definitely easier to coddle when he’s sleepy and his guard is down.

Shortly after he and Kun moved in with them, Kun and Yuta ganged up on Sicheng for a whole day. The dragon was annoyed, but not necessarily uncomfortable, and they didn’t let up for hours. They were forced to, though, when Sicheng was finally fed up with them and told them to keep each other entertained instead. Johnny doesn’t think he knew what he was doing, but ever since then those two have been something of a menace to the decency of the house.

Regardless, Johnny knows they’re happy when they’re with each other. There’s really no doubt about it, looking at the happy grins on their faces right now, or seeing how they don’t hesitate to share a blanket when it’s cold, even if Yuta has a high body temperature because Kun gets chilly too easy and Yuta likes to cuddle.

Kun takes an envelope from the pile of gifts and offers it to Sicheng. Sicheng takes it with a puzzled grin, carefully tearing the lid off and shaking the contents out. Two slips of paper land on his lap; they aren’t much bigger than a train ticket, but clearly handmade. Johnny can see Kun’s loopy handwriting but can’t read what it says. “If that’s something like my gifts, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“It isn’t,” Kun shakes his head.

“I will take you to any concert you want this year,” Sicheng reads aloud. “Except for Code Kunst. You can take your bad taste with you.”

“From the bottom of my heart,” Kun says sweetly with a hand pressed to his chest.

Sicheng rolls his eyes, much how Kun did to Yuta. And, just the same, he presses a kiss to Kun’s cheek and says his thanks with sincerity. Kun resumes his spot on the couch with a pleased smile.

At first glance, the gift might seem like something you would give to a friend that puzzles you in regards of interests, but you don’t want to give them money, so you gift them a promise. But Johnny knows, like Kun does, that Sicheng doesn’t just love going to concerts, he also likes so many artists it’s hard to choose one to take him to. It doesn’t take a genius to know this about Sicheng; you just need to spend a few hours with him.

Kun knows Sicheng better than anyone else in the house, in fact. They spent so many years together before coming here, before even coming to Korea, that there’s little Kun doesn’t know about Sicheng. Johnny has seen them hang out in silence for hours, perfectly content. They’re the kind of relationship that doesn’t need words to communicate.

And even if Kun bothers Sicheng a lot, going out of his way to pester him and drive him insane because he likes how Sicheng looks when he’s annoyed, and more especially because, in his words, a pissed off Sicheng is fun to make out with, Kun adores Sicheng with every fibre of his being. That’s something obvious, as well.

Kun has the sort of face that can’t very well hide his emotions. That’s why the kids don’t take it seriously when he scolds them, because his face betrays his true fondness and amusement at their actions. Kun looks at Sicheng with hearts in his eyes, love written all over his face. Sicheng isn’t too good at conveying his feelings, though. He’s uncomfortable with too much skinship and he’s shy when it comes to public displays of affection – he shows it in his own way, such as not pushing Kun away when he drapes himself over his back and kisses his neck.

Even if it’s obvious that he would very much like it if there was more space between them.

Sicheng’s present is small, square, wrapped in baby blue paper with prancing snowmen on it. It has a red bow tied neatly on top. Sicheng’s cheeks match the colour of the loop as he gives the gift to Taeyong. The vampire’s eyes sparkle in excitement as he takes it into his hands and he does a cute wiggle thing on his spot.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Taeyong gushes. Sicheng flaps his hand as if to say it’s nothing. As if Taeyong will accept that.

Taeyong gasps excitedly. In his hands is a leather bound journal with his initials engraved on the front with golden thread. The pages inside are glossy white and lined with thin blue stripes. On the first page, Sicheng wrote a small dedication to him in his favourite red pen, the one that glows in the dark. It was a gift from Mark for his birthday, the ink magically enhanced to glow and to never dry inside.

Taeyong’s lips move silently as he reads the message Sicheng left for him on the dedicatory page. Jungwoo rearranges his limbs next to Johnny and snuggles closer to the witch doctor’s body, sighing contently once he deems he’s comfortable. Johnny has been making a conscious effort not to move too much so he doesn’t bother Jungwoo, but his arm is falling asleep.

“You’re always stuck in your head, thinking about whatever it is you think about.” Sicheng fumbles with his words, shy under everyone’s undivided attention. “And, I thought you might want something to write some of that stuff down, maybe for future reference or just as. I don’t know. A hobby. I hope you like it.”

“I love it,” Taeyong says honestly.

Sicheng nods several times. He’s clearly glad to hear that, nervous about the gift or maybe about Taeyong’s reaction. Taeyong has always been an innate sweetheart, from the second Johnny met him, and he’s sure there isn’t one mean bone in his body, but Johnny also understands the worry of buying a significant other something that you don’t know if they’ll enjoy.

And Sicheng, sweet Sicheng, would step on a landmine if Taeyong told him to. Johnny can’t imagine how out of his mind he must have been as he bought the journal and had it engraved. But he’s right about something, and that’s that Taeyong spends too much time in his head, thinking about this and that.

Taeyong has told Johnny about some of those things. He thinks about music, mostly. About writing songs and about dancing, his dreams before he was turned and every prospect at a normal life flew out the window.

Later on that week, Taeyong will pull Sicheng aside and show him his first entry to the journal. It’s a short clutter of lyrics, or maybe a poem, that he wrote about Sicheng. Johnny doesn’t know what it says, but judging by the teary eyes, he guesses it must have been something nice. Not like Taeyong could ever write anything other than praise about Sicheng, considering how he showers him with petnames constantly and seems to think the sun shines in Sicheng’s smile.

“You should, uh, go look for yours,” Sicheng says to Taeyong. He’s half hiding behind Kun now, still shy. Dongyoung coos and leans forward to pinch his cheek, his hand batted away with a scowl. Ten laughs from where he’s nestled between the two wolves, glowing.

Taeyong’s gift is in a bag rather than wrapped. The bag is green and red, with reindeers. He hands it with a flourish to Jungwoo, who gapes in surprise. Johnny has to shake him a little to get him to snap out of it.

“I made it myself,” Taeyong informs him proudly. Yuta snorts not so discreetly into his champagne. “Shut up or you’re sleeping outside.”

“Hansol would never let you do that to me.”

“You overestimate my patience.”

It’s a sweater. It’s cream coloured and perhaps a little big for Jungwoo’s frame, yet Jungwoo doesn’t seem to give a shit about that. He’s petting the fabric softly, looking it over and over with awe. Johnny thinks it would be safe to assume this is the first time he received something that someone made especially for him.

Taeyong waits for his response with bated breath. He’s always been a bit skittish with Jungwoo, maybe because he’s the newest addition to their family and Taeyong doesn’t know him as well as he knows the others.

Out of everyone else, Taeyong has done the biggest effort for Jungwoo. Unlike Dongyoung, he didn’t mistrust him at first glance, and unlike Ten or Kun, he didn’t keep a careful eye on him for weeks before finally deeming him trustworthy. Many of them were open to Jungwoo’s presence in the house – Jaehyun and Sicheng hung out with him as his closest in age hyungs, and Hansol was more than happy to lend him clothes to wear while he bought his own – and everyone made sure to be at the very least polite to him, but Taeyong did the most.

Taeyong invited him to the movies twice in the first week, cooked him his favourite breakfast that first morning as a welcome gift and he offered to dye his hair when Jungwoo offhandedly mentioned he was tired of being blond and wanted his black hair back. Taeyong even went as far as inviting Jungwoo to the grown-ups’ movie night in Johnny’s room, a privilege reserved for the partners because of its intimacy.

Jungwoo was awkward at first. He sat by himself on the ledge of Johnny’s window and stayed quiet for a long time, although he smiled at the dumb shit he heard thrown around the room. And sure, it was actually Jaehyun who moved to sit with him, throwing a blanket over their laps and – this is something Johnny heard from Jaehyun later on – held his hand during the movie, but it happened because of Taeyong.

That night was the catalyst of Jungwoo joining their relationship. Johnny saw many of them looking at Jungwoo differently after that night, more open, more honest. It was all Jungwoo and his magnetism, of course, but Taeyong helped. And Jungwoo is thankful to Taeyong for it, it’s clear in his eyes.

“Thank you, hyung,” Jungwoo clears his throat. “It’s really pretty. I didn’t know you could sew.”

“You pick up things when you’re immortal,” Taeyong shrugs. “I plan on learning how to whistle next.”

The statement meets laughter in various degrees of amusement. Taeyong seems confused by the laughter, mumbling, “That wasn’t a joke, though?”

Jungwoo has to leave the warmth of Johnny’s side to pick up his present from under the tree, which he does with great displeasure. Johnny can’t say he disagrees, his torso now cold and lonely. He hides it behind his glass, but he finds it’s empty now. “Well, looks like it’s time for a refill. I’m gonna go look for the vodka.”

“I’ll go with you,” Taeil offers, already getting up from his seat. He halts, however, when Jungwoo coughs and gives him the small box he picked up from under the tree.

Taeyong takes his spot instead. “Come on, John, let’s get you some real alcohol.”

“Please,” Hansol mutters.

Together, they go down the hall and towards the pantry behind the kitchen. The last Johnny sees of the living room is Jungwoo smiling blindingly to Taeil and Taeil offering a grin just as beautiful back at him.

The pantry is dark. Johnny fumbles for the light switch on the wall while Taeyong waltzes right in and picks up the vodka from its spot. “I know I don’t drink, but this feels lighter than it should.”

“It was probably those damn kids,” Johnny grumbles. The bulb goes on above their heads and Johnny has to blink several times to adjust his eyes to the glare, black spots dancing in front of him. “I knew they were sneaking down here to steal our shit.”

Taeyong laughs. “You sound like such an old man. Give them a break, they’re in that phase of drinking yourself stupid.”

“I don’t want them doing that,” Johnny replies. “If they’re going to drink, I want them to do it responsibly.”

“Have you met them? Come on, it’s not like they’re going to do something stupid.”

“Whatever. Let’s take the other bottle instead.”

“I don’t remember much from my human life, but I do remember that mixing drinks is never a good idea.”

Johnny looks at him with exaggerated insult in his face. “Whatever do you mean? It’s just wine, champagne and vodka. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Don’t forget the eggnog.”

“Eggnog, of course. How could I forget?”

Before they exit the pantry room, however, Taeyong stops in the entryway. “If I tell you a secret, do you promise to keep it?”

“Of course.”

“Taeil has a really sweet gift planned for all of us. He’s gonna give it to us after the exchange is over. Do you want to know what it is?” Taeyong asks. “I heard him thinking about it this morning doing the dishes. I took the bracelet off because I don’t want to lose it in the drain.”

“No,” Johnny shakes his head. “Let’s keep it a surprise.”

Johnny takes Taeyong’s wrist and examines the bracelet. The gems that act as blocks are starting to fade, so he might have to replace them before the year is over. Taeyong lets him watch for a second more, than he twists in his grasp so he can interlock their fingers together. “Come on, let’s go back to the party. I’m pretty sure someone’s crying.”

No one’s crying per se, but Johnny doesn’t think they’re too far from it. Taeil is hugging Jungwoo as if he doesn’t plan to let him go anytime soon, the incubi looking small for once in his hold. Johnny gives Ten a quizzical look and Ten wiggles out of Yuta’s embrace to go over to him. “Jungwoo gave Taeil gloves, Taeil went on to wax poetry about Jungwoo and now they’re crying all over each other.”

“Oh, so the usual,” Johnny says.

“Pretty much. Is that the vodka?”

In an attempt to give the couple privacy, the others migrate to the kitchen to hunt for clean glasses to use. Taeil is Jungwoo’s favourite, no doubt. Maybe it’s his easy disposition to cuddle, or how he doesn’t fear intimacy with Jungwoo because of his status as a sex demon. Taeil was the second person to be physically intimate with Jungwoo, uncaring that as a human he was in certain degree of danger. And he didn’t care the morning after, even though he was woozy and a little weaker than usual.

Taeil had to reassure Jungwoo that he was fine, there was nothing wrong with him that a little rest and lots of milk wouldn’t fix. Jungwoo was a nervous wreck, guilty and remorseful. He’d thought that, because his night with Jaehyun had gone as well as it did, he wouldn’t do too badly with Taeil. He confesses that he knew he wasn’t ready to try it with a human again, not after all the people he hurt or killed in the past, but he did it because he wanted to be with Taeil.

Jungwoo’s past is something that continues to haunt me. Johnny’s heard bits and pieces of it, enough to have an idea of the sort of thing that makes Jungwoo keep everyone at arm’s length. The supernatural ones are safer from whatever might happen, which is why touch and other things are more common now, but even after so long Jungwoo still shies away from contact with Taeil out of fear. Johnny knows it bothers Taeil a little, but his respect for Jungwoo outweighs his selfish wants and he keeps it under wraps.

“Come back inside,” Taeil calls out. His voice sounds broken, like he’s been crying. “We can continue now.”

Taeil is holding his present already. It’s also in a bag, small and pink. Taeil gives it to Hansol with a sweet grin, wishing him a happy Christmas with a twinkle in his eyes. Hansol takes the bag with wide eyes. As he takes the gift out, Taeil says, “It’s for your dance studio. I know your speakers aren’t working too well and I thought you could use some new ones.”

“Wow, Tae,” Hansol giggles, “Thank you, really.” He has a pair of Bluetooth speakers in hand, the kind that kids these days like to dangle from their fingers while walking around. Johnny doesn’t know if he’s getting old or what, but he has no idea what they’re called.

Hoots and hollers ring through the room as Hansol kisses Taeil square on the lips. They aren’t the type to kiss often, although when they do they both smile dizzyingly afterward and seem to be on cloud nine. Johnny can almost see their bond, as a physical entity rather than something emotional.

They share the burden of being the older members of the house, and take it in stride whenever someone makes a jab at their ages. Never mind some are technically older, of course; they’re the oldest in mind and spirit. Taeil is too mature for his age and Hansol takes care of others like he’s born for it – enough proof of that is to see how he’s adopted his new students, a bunch of kids he’s taken under his wing. Or how he still stays in touch with the two kids from his building he used to tutor.

“You’ll have to come to one of the classes, now,” Hansol teases, “there’s no getting out of it.”

“I can bust out some sweet moves,” Taeil challenges. Then, he proceeds to do some strange rendition of the robot that makes Hansol cringe while he laughs and begs him to stop before he hurts himself. “That’s enough for today.”

“That was hot,” Yuta teases him. Ten kicks him. Taeil only shakes his butt at him in retaliation, his cheeks red from the alcohol.

Kun saves Taeil from himself before he can do anything else. “Come sit with me, hyung. And that’s enough eggnog for you.”

Hansol shakes his head while he goes for the decreasing pile of gifts. There are still some left, not just for the exchange but also a few other things they all bought. Johnny’s stash of letters is in his room, though, because he didn’t want anyone snooping in and seeing them.

“John,” Hansol calls. “Merry Christmas, man.”

Johnny squeals like a school girl. His drink splashes on the carpet and he stares at the stain for a second, then decides he doesn’t give a shit and continues to squeal as he launches his full body at Hansol. They’re roughly the same size and weight, so Hansol doesn’t have any trouble catching him before they fall to the ground. Hansol laughs loudly, patting his back. “Okay, okay, let it out.”

Johnny squeezes the life out of Hansol before releasing him. Thankfully, the gift is still in Hansol’s hold and didn’t tumble to the floor in the midst of Johnny’s dramatics. “For you, obviously.”

Johnny pulls out a smallish box, and from it a mug. It’s green and has Johnny’s name engraved with laser. Around it are little drawings of dogs, a little inside joke between them. Hansol’s the wolf of the two, but Johnny definitely acts more like an overgrown puppy than he does. And while the joke has taken a bit of a turn for the kinkier, it’s still sweet of Hansol to think of it when picking his gift.

“I’m gonna drink coffee from this every day,” Johnny promises. Hansol laughs at the resolute expression and tells him he could also drink tea, to which Johnny wrinkles his nose.

Hansol is maybe the only person that babies Johnny and gets away with it. It doesn’t have anything to do with him being older, though, not this time. It’s because Hansol has the sort of personality that lulls Johnny to a calmer state, no longer as hyper and energetic as he usually is. Hansol is the one Johnny goes to when he can’t sleep or when he’s feeling overwhelmed, and Johnny is the one Hansol goes to when he needs a sense of stability.

“Go get your gift,” Hansol urges him. Johnny carefully places the coffee mug on the centre table before doing as he’s told.

It’s not hard to find it, even with how small the box is. Ten is almost asleep on the couch, barely moving when Hansol resumes his spot next to him and jostles him. He wakes up when Johnny kneels in front of him and puts a hand on his knee, offering the box with the other hand.

“Merry Christmas,” Johnny smiles. Ten grins back, sleepy and undoubtedly in love, and he opens his gift eagerly.

Inside is a watch. There’s nothing particularly special about it, Johnny simply saw it in a store and thought it would look lovely on Ten’s wrist, but Ten still holds it like it’s the prettiest thing he’s seen in his life.

“Am I the only one who thought he was going to propose?” Dongyoung stage whispers.

“I was ready to pop another champagne bottle,” Kun whispers back. Taeyong and Jungwoo giggle in unison.

“Nah, I’m letting these two have the honour of doing that,” Johnny points to Hansol and Yuta. The two wolves look at each other, embarrassed, and it causes a whispered uproar that Ten seemingly ignores.

Ten does, however, say, “No one’s proposing to anyone without Renjun’s blessing.”

“Of course not,” Johnny agrees, “hence why I didn’t.”

Ten shoots Johnny a warning look, to which Johnny grins cheekily and blows him a kiss. Ten rolls his eyes and tries to kill the smile threatening to bloom on his face.

Johnny doesn’t deny thinking about proposing because he’d be lying. The thought has occurred to him on more than one occasion, not just regarding Ten but also Taeyong, Taeil and Jaehyun. In fact, if he could, Johnny would marry all of them in a heartbeat. He realises that wouldn’t be the easiest thing to accomplish, but it would make him happy.

Johnny would marry Ten this second, if he asked. And he knows Ten would say yes, just like any of them would, but Johnny reckons it isn’t time to do something like that. There’s still a lot of things that need to be discussed before taking a step like that.

Ten clasps the watch around his wrist. It’s gold, with little diamonds on the outer ring. It’s sparkly, exactly the kind of thing that makes Ten’s pixy side happy. Anything that glows, sparkles or shimmers is good in his book, and you only have to look at his “secret” drawer to know it. He stashes everything that catches his attention, much how Renjun does.

“It matches your wings,” Johnny says.

“It does,” Ten agrees. “Thank you.”

After a beat of silence, during which they do nothing but look at each other, someone clears their throat. Dongyoung says, “Ten, you can keep moving now.”

Ten rolls his eyes and stands up. “You’re just in a rush because you know my gift is for you.”

Johnny goes back to his seat while Ten picks up the box. Jungwoo is quick to latch himself to him, cuddling under his chin with a happy hum. For some reason, Dongyoung and Ten begin to bicker and Johnny takes the distraction to ask Jungwoo, “How’s your night going? Are you having fun?”

“I am,” Jungwoo nods. “It’s fun seeing you drunk.”

“Yeah, yeah, real fun. But seriously, are you doing okay?”

Jungwoo takes a second longer to reply. “I’m really okay. I was nervous earlier but you do a good job at making me feel better.”

“We’re great, right?”

“No, not you plural. I meant you, Johnny.”

That surprises Johnny, and he doesn’t have an answer to it before there’s another commotion and his eyes cut back to Ten and Dongyoung.

“We are not the same,” Dongyoung insists. Ten huffs and stomps his foot, glittery wings fluttering. “Just to make that clear.”

“Don’t be a coward and accept my love, asshat,” Ten demands.

Dongyoung glares at him, but he brings his hands up and clasps a necklace around his neck. From afar, Johnny can’t see what it is, but he can see that Ten sports a similar one. Ten smiles proudly when he sees Dongyoung wear the necklace and he prances back to his seat. Dongyoung stands there a second longer, trying his damn hardest not to smile and failing, then he picks up the last gift under the tree.

“Jaehyun,” Dongyoung coughs, “I, uh, I saw this at a store and thought about how you’ve said you liked it and. Yeah, I hope you enjoy it.”

Jaehyun takes the package happily. He was previously almost asleep, again on Taeyong’s shoulder, but clearly, the prospect of a gift was enough to wake him up. “Thanks, Doie.”

He unwraps it carefully, gasping softly when he sees what it is. In his hands, he holds a Tove Lo album, the same one he had on repeat for days after it came out and that threatened to drive everyone insane. Dongyoung tries to go for his seat but Jaehyun doesn’t let him go too far, intercepting his path and kissing him until they’re flushed.

You can accuse Johnny of voyeurism if you want, he enjoys watching his partners kiss. And Dongyoung kisses like he needs it to breath, tenderly holding Jaehyun’s nape and caressing his cheek with his thumb. Jaehyun, a hopeless romantic, likes slow kisses and gentle touches, and Dongyoung be damned if he doesn’t provide.

They’re still kissing, lost in their own world, when Johnny goes upstairs for his letters. Taeil also slips away for a bit, as do a few others. Johnny’s letters are hidden under the mattress in his room, inside a stationary box he bought years ago and has been using to hide things that he doesn’t want anyone to see. Mostly gifts, but a few other things as well.

Johnny doesn’t want to make a big deal out of his letters. He approaches Jungwoo first and gives him the letter titled, “for when you’re doubting yourself,” knowing he’ll need it sooner than Johnny would like.

For Hansol it’s “for when it’s our anniversary,” little heart and arrow doodled on top. Hansol takes one look at it and smiles, telling Johnny what a sap he is.

To Jaehyun, “for when you need a reminder of why I love you,” scribbled in pink ink. Jaehyun’s eyes go wide in surprise and he beams at Johnny with the force of the sun behind it.

To Sicheng, “for when you need advice,” a hand-drawn dragon that’s supposed to resemble Sicheng’s mighty real form. It isn’t too accurate but it helps to put a smile on Sicheng’s face.

To Yuta, “for when you miss me and I’m not around,” because lately their schedules have been clashing more than usual and they haven’t gotten the chance to spend as much time together as they used to.

To Kun, “for when it’s a rainy day,” and Kun grins and asks if it’s gonna make him cry harder than the sky. Johnny rolls his eyes at the bad joke and threatens to take the letter away.

To Dongyoung, “for when you feel romantic,” even if Dongyoung isn’t the romantic type. Dongyoung has his moments, though, and that’s exactly what Johnny expects when he finally reads it.

To Ten, “for when you’re worried,” knowing that the pixy can take things to heart too hard and pile things up on his shoulder until it’s too much.

To Taeil, “for when you accomplish something great,” because Taeil is meant for greatness, Johnny can feel it in his guts, and he wants Taeil to know how proud he is of him.

To Taeyong, “for when you’re not sure what to do,” aware of how much Taeyong tends to overcomplicate little things and how he would do anything to help him loosen that knot in his stomach.

The letters for the kids are already in their recipients’ hands. Most were surprised, and they all seemed giddy for the gifts, Jeno even going as far as saying, “I almost want to open it now, but I’ll wait.”

Once everyone settled down again, the clock is striking four am. Johnny received a few more gifts from the others, including a new box where he can keep his gems and a set of tarot cards specially made for him. Some, like Yuta and Hansol or Kun and Sicheng, gave out gifts from both of them, while the others were individual, except for Jaehyun – his gifts were from him as well as from Mark and Donghyuck.

Drinks begin to flow easier. There’s still one gift left, though, and Johnny’s waiting for Taeil to overcome his clear nerves to stand up and announce it. Everyone’s nice enough not to mention the package he’s gripping in his hand while he downs a shot of vodka.

“I have something,” Taeil says abruptly, “for everyone. I made it.”

Johnny watches him fumble with the package, half-wanting to help but knowing that Taeil would tell him to sit back down. Finally, Taeil beats the wrapping and he shows them a giant blanket. “I had help from Taeyeon noona, she’s a witch and she knits and she could help with the size. It’s for the nights that we all spend together, that why no one’s cold.”

It’s the sweetest thing Johnny’s heard. Taeil reddens under their attention, picking at something on his pants. No one breaks the silence until Taeil demands them to say something, and then it’s a chorus of praises and love declarations, everyone falling over themselves to reassure Taeil about his gift.

They try out the blanket right then and there. No matter how sleepy they are, they can’t seem to fall asleep, happy and talking and kissing anyone in reach. They had to push more furniture together so they could lie down next to each other, but no one had any complaints about that.

That’s how the kids find them, almost two hours later. Johnny thought they’d be home hammered, but they’re all surprisingly sober, just as loud as usual and wearing Christmas hats on their heads. There are a lot of Santa’s, and Yukhei appears to be some sort of reindeer, while Renjun’s headband has elf ears.

The sun is coming up already. Johnny thinks it’s the first time they’ve all been awake so late – or early. There are no protests when Renjun finds Ten and cuddles under the blanket with him, or when Donghyuck latches onto Jaehyun and falls asleep on his shoulder within seconds. Somehow, they all fit under the blanket, a few feet or hands hanging out here or there.

“I think we’re gonna have the worst neck pain in history when we wake up,” Kun says in a hush.

“Don’t care,” Jaehyun mumbles, nodding off. “Comfy, no one move.” Like they would dare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this chapter! sorry for the long wait :(
> 
> twt & cc: doitsushine92


	3. will i ever be (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, some heads up about this chapter:  
> firstly, it got so long i had to split it into two parts, part two should be coming soon (but idk how soon so don't quote me on that lol). second, this features some pretty heavy topics (panic attacks, violence, mentions of past child abuse, self-hatred, alienation, miscommunication, so much angst, and probably some other things i can't think of atm) and i recommend threading carefully! also, you might dislike hyung line for a while through this (especially yutensol) but i promise things won't be sad for too long! part two will see reconciliation between everyone and, besides, this chapter is narrated entirely by jaemin and he isn't exactly the most reliable narrator this time around
> 
> chapter title from "Sincerely, me" by the Dear Evan Hansen Broadway Cast

It was the stupidest thing.

It was two days before New Year’s Eve and most of the adults were out, doing some belated shopping before the roads were so clogged it was impossible to go out. Mark was in the rec room with Donghyuck, probably making out or doing something equally gross, although they did leap out of their seats the second they heard the commotion. The others were either in their rooms or in the lounge, far from the scene.

Jaemin was in the kitchen, making himself a sandwich. Jisung was sitting on the counter with him, telling him about his day with his pals Yunmin and Woochul, two kids in Hansol’s dance class. They had apparently gone to the movies and then bowling, Chenle joining for the second activity after his last class of the day let out.

Everything was going well, at first. Things between the two were progressing smoothly, and Jaemin felt giddy just to think that soon he could ask Jisung on a date and he’d say yes. But then Jaemin heard – or thought he heard – a change in Jisung’s tone when he talked about one of them and Jaemin couldn’t help the jealousy.

Jaemin isn’t perfect. Renjun would be more than happy to tell you all about his jealousy fits and his sometimes childish tantrums, although he always sooths it with how good a friend Jaemin is. However, Jaemin knows there’s no excuse for what he did that day. He’s ashamed for his reaction and wants to take it all back.

Jisung was telling him about how Woochul was terrible at bowling, but cute enough to make up for it. Jaemin swallowed down a comment that most likely would have ended the conversation right there and instead focused on the cheese tray in his hands, overdoing it with the wrapper because he needed something with which to distract himself. He didn’t notice his claws were coming out until he tore a hole into the fabric.

“Anyway, Woochul and I are going to this festival next week near his house, they have a light show and apparently the food is delicious,” Jisung finished. He was smiling brightly, brimming with excitement. So, of course, Jaemin had to go ahead and ruin everything.

“Is it a date?” he meant to ask, but a growl replaced his voice.

Jisung was visibly startled, but not scared. Not yet. “It’s not a date,” Jisung tried to say, hesitation clouding his statement. Jaemin took it as a show that he didn’t know if it was a date or not rather than for what it was. Mere surprise at Jaemin’s reaction.

“Sounds like one,” Jaemin countered. Towards the back of his mind, something told him to cool down, to let it go, to back the fuck off before he said something he would regret. “Hope you’ll have fun,” he grumbled.

Jaemin tried to leave the kitchen with his plate in hand, set on going to his room and eating on his bed despite of his usual protests at anyone doing the same, but Jisung didn’t let him. The merman blocked his path, standing in the doorway with crossed arms and a frown on his face. His hair, finally black after many potions and attempted spells from their local witch friends, flopped on his forehead when he huffed.

“What’s going on with you?” Jisung asked. “Why are you acting like this?”

He had to repress an eye roll. “I’m not acting like anything, Jisung.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I just want to go to my room and eat, can I do that?” Jaemin snapped.

Jisung flinched but didn’t back down. He was no longer the scared kid that jumped at any loud sound and scurried away when confrontation loomed in the way, something that made them all very proud. Jisung stood taller now, his shoulders squared back and his chest out, not hiding from everything anymore. It certainly garnered attention at Taeil’s school where he studied, as if being the new kid in senior year wasn’t enough to put a billboard over his head.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

That was when things truly went to shit. Jaemin had two options, either to barge past Jisung and run to hide in his bedroom or to accept Jisung’s proposal and talk. He did the first one, but more dramatic and awful.

Something that was more than a growl parted his lips. It was a snarl, ugly, scary and absolutely animalistic. To this day, Jaemin can’t believe he did it. His hands morphed into claws and the plate cracked, only to smash into pieces when he threw it to the wall opposite them.

“Let me through,” he demanded. “Or I swear on every God, Jisung.”

That wasn’t Jaemin anymore. That was the wolf inside of him, or to be more accurate, the beast that resided in a corner of his being that he tried so hard to keep under lock and key. It’s the same monster that saved him from the people in his pack when was a child, even when he was small and frail. This was only the second time in his life that he lost control over himself.

Mark rounded the corner then. His hair was a mess and his shirt was askew in the collar, but his eyes were alert and he was ready to do whatever he had to do to protect Jisung from harm. Donghyuck was right behind him, looking every bit as debauched as Mark did. Jaemin would have found it funny if he had been present in his body.

Renjun and Jeno also appeared, covered head to toe in dirt from the garden and snow. Seconds later, the three angels were coming down the stairs with alarm, and Yukhei and Chenle trampled in last. All in time to see the big show.

As Jaemin hears from Renjun that night, his eyes were blood red and his mouth was nothing but a snarl of sharp teeth and saliva. And, apparently, he was beginning to hunch over when Mark tackled him to the ground. Not a second too soon, either, because Jaemin only hunches when he’s about to pounce.

Jaemin tried taking a bite out of Mark’s nose, but apparently spending years roughhousing with Jaehyun, Donghyuck – and Jaemin and Jeno, too – have left his instincts sharp and he ducked in time. With his full body weight pinning Jaemin down and with a hand on his throat, Mark was able to stop a catastrophe from happening. It didn’t stop Jaemin from wanting to rip his head off, however.

Still kicking and trashing, Jaemin tried to warn Mark that if he wanted to keep his dick intact, he better get off him, but all that left his lips were more snarls. Jaemin doesn’t remember much of what he was thinking, other than he wanted blood.

It was the sound of crying that broke Jaemin out of it. Well, he didn’t really break down until an hour later, with Donghyuck making him smell something he pulled out of his special box and Renjun petting his hair, but at least it stopped his murderous rage. And no, he isn’t exaggerating it now.

Jisung was sobbing. It wasn’t the tears that you might expect from a teenager after being scared like that; it was the sobs of a terrified child. Yukhei was pulling him out of the kitchen, or rather hauling might be the better word for it, and Chenle seemed thorn, debating whether to go with them or to stay behind to kick Jaemin in the nuts. The angels didn’t take so long to decide, and shooting Jaemin one last glance – of pity? Fear? Hatred? – they went after Yukhei and his bundle of tears.

It took a second for it to sink in. Jaemin immediately scrambled to get up, but Mark wouldn’t allow it, pressing him down further until Jaemin couldn’t even bend his knees. Still, Jaemin did his best attempt at lifting his head, tearing up as the reality of the situation became present in his mind and he tried to apologize, only for words to fail him. He still couldn’t talk too well, his face half morphed into an animal, and he only managed to mumble, “No, Jisung, I’m sorry, _please_.”

The next thing Jaemin knew, he was in his room, surrounded by his best friends and choking on his tears. He was having a panic attack, of course, but that wasn’t obvious to him then. At the moment, he thought he was dying. He couldn’t breathe and the tears didn’t seem to stop, and something in his chest ached as if a thousand anchors had dropped on his heart.

Jeno tried to comfort him, wiping away the tears only for new ones to fall in their place, but it was no use. Donghyuck tried next, whispering soothing words and pulling his usual tricks for Jisung, but that didn’t work either. Mark was becoming desperate and he even thought about slapping Jaemin, as he’d read somewhere helped to snap people out of their attacks, but he was scared of making things worse.

Finally, it was Renjun the one who brought him down. In spite of Jaemin’s upright foetal position and his refusal to lift his head, Renjun managed to press their foreheads together – it was an awkward position for many reasons, Renjun’s slowly numbing foot one of them – and forced Jaemin to meet his eyes.

In the softest tone of voice he could muster, Renjun worked Jaemin through his breathing, putting one of Jaemin’s hands on his chest so he could feel how he was doing it and imitate him. Jaemin’s hand clenched a few times on Renjun’s shirt, usually at the same time his heartbeat accelerated and he began to hyperventilate again, but Renjun always soothed him, whispering sweet nothings that only Jaemin could hear. After a while, Renjun’s own hand found purchase over Jaemin’s clothed heart, looking for his heartbeat to make sure it was somewhat similar to his.

The other three were silent for those twenty minutes. Donghyuck was watching the exchange with eagle eyes, hoping to learn something that he could use in the future if needed – although he hoped to the gods he wouldn’t have to – and Mark was in a bit of awe at how mature Renjun seemed in that moment. Jeno wasn’t sure how he was feeling, watching the two, but he thought it felt a bit like jealousy. Could it be?

Jaemin took one last deep breath before pulling away. He was scared for reacting the way he did, embarrassed to his core and disgusted at himself, and on top of everything, he was ashamed of his tears. Renjun had seen him cry before, but they were kids then and Jaemin wasn’t as out of control as this time. Seemed like the recurring theme of the evening, if you asked him.

“I’m sorry,” Jaemin sniffed. He wiped away the tears that continued to fall with his sleeve.

“It’s okay.” Donghyuck's eyes were wide with concern for his friend. “It wasn’t your fault, we know that.”

“Doesn’t make it any better,” Jaemin said. He chuckled darkly, self-deprecatingly. “I keep fucking up, don’t I? Just when I think things are gonna be better, somehow I manage to ruin it again.”

Jeno frowned. “That’s not fair to you,” he tried to protest, but Jaemin wasn’t listening. Mark sighed and stood up, leaving the room without a word. Before Jaemin could begin to think Mark hated him – something Jaemin didn’t think he could handle -, Mark was back, holding a familiar wooden box in his hands. Donghyuck and Mark both kept their special leaves and gems in boxes that they carved themselves, perhaps not very skilfully. That one belonged to Donghyuck. It had the special weed Donghyuck used for soothing brews.

The four flanked Jaemin on the bed. Renjun tangled a hand on Jaemin’s hair, the wolf’s head resting on his bony shoulder. On his other side, Donghyuck pressed the weed onto Jaemin’s palm and urged him to hold it close to his nose, because his sense of smell was strong enough that the scent alone would help with his conflicted emotions. Mark and Jeno, in the meantime, sat across from him; Jeno played with Jaemin’s free hand and Mark, while he didn’t talk, offered Jaemin kind eyes that at least helped him feel less monstrous.

The sun had set over the horizon by then. Jaemin’s stomach grumbled loudly, startling him out of his daze, and he realised belatedly that he never ate his sandwich. He was about to suggest going down for dinner – he could smell the roasted beef and he knew most if not all the household was downstairs – but the mere thought of facing everyone made him queasy.

“Are you hungry?” Jeno asked. He probably heard his stomach protest. “It smells like Kun is cooking tonight.”

Jaemin shook his head immediately. “No. I can’t go down there.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Donghyuck reassured him softly, tucking a strand of hair behind Jaemin’s ear, “and we’re going to be there the whole time.”

It took some more convincing, but Jaemin eventually agreed. Again, his friends flanked Jaemin from all sides and they made the trip downstairs at snail pace because Jaemin couldn’t bring himself to move any faster. Jaemin halted several times, mumbling to himself and trying to backtrack. Mark was tempted to let him go to his room again, but that probably wasn’t the best idea for Jaemin. Sure, it might be now, but not in the long run. They could hear talk and even some laughter coming from the dining room, yet every noise stopped when they stepped in the threshold.

Jaemin shrunk on himself as every pair of eyes swivelled to look at him. All except for Jisung. The merman sat at the very end of the room, swallowed by a hoodie that looked like Taeyong’s and avoiding Jaemin’s eyes at all costs. Yukhei and Chenle sat on either side of his body and while Yukhei kept his face neutral – perhaps out of respect for Jeno fiercely holding onto Jaemin’s sleeve – Chenle’s gaze held nothing but anger.

In fact, there didn’t seem to be a friendly face in the room. All the expressions ranged from cool indifference to anger and disappointment. Jaemin looked for Hansol, the one that always seemed to understand him the most, but the older wolf didn’t look at him.

“I,” Jaemin stuttered. He didn’t know what he was going to say, he just knew that he needed everyone to stop looking at him like that. Dongyoung interrupted him, though.

“Save it,” Dongyoung snapped. “I don’t want to hear a word from you.”

Jaemin whimpered involuntarily. Directly in front of Jaemin, Mark bristled at the words and the biting tone. “Don’t talk to him like that.”

“Stay out of it, Mark,” Jaehyun warned him. If Donghyuck’s choked off sound was any indication, he was as surprised as Jaemin. “This isn’t your business.”

“Jaemin is my friend,” Mark countered, standing taller. “You weren’t here, you don’t know what happened.”

“And you do?” Chenle spoke up. Jaemin had never heard him sound quite so mean. Jeno’s fist tightened on Jaemin’s shirtsleeve, a silent way of communicating to him that he’s not going anywhere.

Before Mark could say anything, Ten said, “Renjun. Come over here,” in a tone that indicated he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Unfortunately, Renjun had no intention of moving from Jaemin’s side. When the young pixy didn’t move, aside from the gentle sway of his wings, Ten looked like someone slapped him in the face. He certainly wasn’t expecting Renjun to disobey such a clear order from him.

Renjun did speak, nonetheless. He kept his voice cool and kept his anger in check as he said, “I can’t believe none of you are even going to hear him out.”

“There’s nothing to hear,” Yuta said with finality. Jaemin’s eyes widened and, in spite of being taller than his friends are, he stood so small he could hide behind Mark’s shoulder. “Jaemin knows exactly what he did, and so do we.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Jaemin tried.

“Damn it, Jaemin!” Johnny banged his hands down on the table, the cutlery rattling under his force. “You’re not a child anymore, for fuck’s sake. Enough excuses, you were out of line and you know it.”

Jaemin’s gaze moved to where Jisung sat, intent on apologizing, but Kun wouldn’t allow it. “You’re not talking to him. Not anymore. From now on, you’re not to be anywhere close to him. And,” he hesitated, perhaps because he wasn’t too keen on the idea, “we still have to figure out how and if you’ll still be living here.”

Those words were like a bucketful of cold water. Jaemin froze, his mind refusing to process the meaning of the statement but his heart shattered all the same. Renjun’s hand clamped down on Jaemin’s arm and tightened to the point of it almost being painful, yet Jaemin hardly felt it.

“What?” Donghyuck exclaimed. Jaemin could hear the tremor in his voice, although he couldn’t tell if it was fear or anger. “You’re just going to throw him out on the streets? What the fuck?”

“We would never do that, Jesus,” Taeyong said. “There’s a pack in Andong that specialises in… out of control wolves. It would be a better place for him and it would be safer for everyone involved.”

“It’s really not that bad,” Sicheng mumbled, “I’ve flown over it before and there’s a lot of open spaces and room for him to run around.”

“There’s a whole fucking forest right outside that window,” Mark pointed out sharply. Jaemin appreciated the sentiment, but only on the most superficial of levels.

“And you two are okay with this?” Renjun didn’t need to say any names for them to know to whom he was referring.

Neither spoke. Hansol wouldn’t look up from his meal and Yuta stared ahead, not meeting Jaemin’s eyes. “Some fucking family,” Jeno said, loud and clear. He then stirred Jaemin out of the room, stopping long enough to ask Mark to fix Jaemin a plate and bring it upstairs.

~

And that leads to today. Jaemin spends his time holed up in his bedroom, refusing to leave the safety of his blankets. Somehow, the hours turn to days and the pain in his chest doesn’t lessen at all. His friends don’t leave his side for a second, which means Jaemin can’t get a moment to himself and while he loves them for it, sometimes he just wants to be alone so he can cry.

It’s not as if Jaemin doesn’t cry in front of them. Oh, no, they have become familiar with the sickening sight of the tears and the snot and the redness. It doesn’t mean it becomes less embarrassing. Donghyuck spends most nights curled around him, holding him as if he’s hoping the hug will take away the pain. Renjun will join them in bed, sometimes Jeno or Mark, but they’re always in the bedroom and within arm’s length.

The night terrors might be the worst part. Jaemin can’t sleep more than four hours at night and it’s taking a toll on him, as well as on the others. Mark doesn’t seem to sleep if Jaemin isn’t sleeping either, proven by the purple bags under his eyes and the lethargy of his movements. Mostly, he dreams about them kicking him out of the house, but that isn’t his only fear.

He dreams of them calling him a monster, of Yuta saying he’s a disappointment, of Hansol saying he regrets taking him in, of his friends turning their backs on him. Jaemin can’t really say which one is the worst, because they all suck balls. On more than one occasion, he wakes up screaming loud enough for the rest of the house to hear, and usually Jungwoo will go into the room to make sure there isn't a murder going on.

Jungwoo reassures him one night that they weren’t serious about him leaving the house. It’s late, probably closer to morning than to night, and Jaemin has just woken up the entire household with another one of his nightmares. Jungwoo, bless his little demonic soul, wipes away the tears in spite of his sleepiness and tells him gently that he needn’t worry, there is no way he’d allow anyone to kick his pup out of their home.

“Sicheng and Kun don’t agree, either,” Jungwoo says, “nor do Taeyong or Yangyang. Taeil absolutely refuses to even participate in the conversation and Jisung insists it isn’t necessary.”

“Jisung?” Jaemin croaks. He’s trying to be quiet, considering Renjun and Donghyuck just fell back asleep, but Mark and Jeno are awake as well. The two sleeping boys are beginning to snore, something that amuses Jaemin lightly.

Jungwoo nods and makes a soft sound. “He’s very adamant on you staying here. And with the house so divided, there’s no way you’re going anywhere.”

“What about… you know?”

Jungwoo sighs, as if he knew this question was coming. “They don’t want you gone, that’s something you have to know. They love you so, so much, Jaemin.”

“But?” Jaemin prompts. He both dreads and looks forward to the answer.

“But they know that you need help to control your anger and your shifts,” Jungwoo admits. “They’re looking into packs in the city for someone that could help you, train you in a way.”

“Like a dog?” Jeno snaps.

“No,” Jungwoo denies firmly. “Like a wolf that can’t control his anger sometimes. They are right about something, and that’s that you could be very dangerous, even if just unconsciously.”

His friends visibly want to protest but refrain from doing so at Jaemin’s nod of agreement. “I know that. Why haven’t they talked to me?” Jaemin blurts out. “If they don’t hate me, why hasn’t either of them tried to?”

Jungwoo doesn’t seem to have an answer for that. “I don’t know. Maybe because they’re stupid, or maybe they’re cowards.” He clearly doesn’t feel like sugar coating the whole thing. “But I do know the last thing they want is to lose you. They won’t let it happen.”

Why? Jaemin can’t possibly see why they would still want him around, considering all the stupid shit. He’s disappointed them so many times, all of them, but they still want him to stay. It doesn’t make sense to him.

“Okay,” Jaemin mumbles. “I think I want to go back to sleep now. Thank you, hyung.”

If Jungwoo thinks the sudden switch is weird, he doesn’t say it. He only nods in understanding and pats Jaemin’s head a few times, wishing him a good night before slipping out of the room. Jaemin tries to settle back into bed but finds that the two leeches he calls his best friends didn’t leave any room for him. There’s hardly space for a small puppy to squeeze between them, let alone for someone as tall and broad as Jaemin. A shame, because the two are his favourite cuddlers.

“It’s easier if you come over here,” Mark calls quietly. Jaemin moves to the other bed and Mark and Jeno accommodate him easily, and in spite of the conflictive thoughts in his head, Jaemin manages to sleep a few more hours until sunrise.

~

“This is good news, right?” Renjun asks. “I mean, they really aren’t making you move out.”

“All hyung said was that there were no’s, but that isn’t a definite. Plenty of people still want me out of here,” Jaemin grumbles, picking at his nails. The sandwich Jeno brought him upstairs sits untouched on the bedside table. “And, honestly? That might be a good idea.”

Protests surface immediately. It’s nice, but Jaemin knows it’s out of pity. He’s clearly a danger to the household, so why not send him someplace far away. It would certainly be easier for everyone else.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Mark says firmly. “We’re not letting you.”

“And if they want you to leave, then I’m going with you,” Renjun says. “There’s no way you’re getting away from me.”

“Me too.” “Same here.” “Absolutely.”

Jaemin pretends that doesn’t bring tears to his eyes and fails. Donghyuck rubs his arm and, thankfully, that’s as far as they go to acknowledge it. Jaemin isn’t just tired of crying, he’s tired of relying on his friends to comfort him. He’s tired of feeling like a little kid every time his eyes water and his throat closes up.

“Realistically speaking, they aren’t throwing us all out,” Donghyuck tries.

That’s true. It doesn’t help, however.

Jaemin doesn’t finish his sandwich and instead gives it to Jeno, who’s always hungry. At least the sight of his smile alleviates the pain Jaemin feels in the chest.

~

This is one of the things Jaemin has been dreading for days.

Hansol and Yuta are perched at the foot of his bed, looking every bit as uncomfortable as Jaemin feels. Jaemin is huddled into the corner between the two walls, his pillow on his lap to hide the claws from the stress. He absolutely refuses to look either of them in the eyes and instead focuses on looking at Renjun's most recent drawing, a butterfly in aquarelles he painted just for Jaemin. The wings are a mixture of blue and purple and the background is a sunset, like the ones they can see from the rooftop.

Neither has said anything since they walked inside and asked the boys to give them some privacy. None would have left if Jaemin didn’t consent to it, made clear by the fierceness behind the glares they sent them as they exited the room, as reluctantly as if someone told them they had to go back to classes immediately and not in two weeks.

The bedroom is strangely warm, although Jaemin isn’t sure it’s really the temperature and not just his body building up heat. They shut the windows, of course, to keep out the winter wind from freezing them to the bones. It’s probably just the thermostat set high to fend off the chill outside.

Yuta, perhaps not too surprisingly, starts the conversation. “Jaemin,” he says, “we need to talk about what’s been happening.”

Jaemin doesn’t say anything to that. There are plenty of things he could say to that, but none is too kind.

“We should have done this sooner, I know,” Yuta continues, “but, truth be told, we didn’t know how to do this. I mean, you’re like our kid, our cub, and some of the guys think that’s clouding our judgement when it comes to making a decision about you.”

“You mean, about whether I’m worth the fight or not?” Jaemin snaps.

Hansol flinches, as if it physically stung to hear that. “That’s not it, Jaem. We think you’re worth everything we’ve done the last eight years. We’d do it all over again in the blink of an eye.”

“Absolutely,” Yuta agrees, easy as breathing.

Jaemin hates that it softens him. He can hear how much they mean it and, in spite of wanting to stay mad, he’s starting to wane. If he were being honest, he’d also go through all the hell he’s lived again if it led him to the happy times he’s had with them.

Of course, the thought of his initial pack dampens his mood and destroys every bit of hope he was building. It’s just another reminder that this isn’t the first time he’s been unwanted by his family, and while no one in the house has laid a hand on him, they definitely don’t want him here anymore.

“Look, we’re here because we don’t agree with the idea of you moving away.” They share a look full of meaning before Hansol continues. “The argument has landed us with some options. One of them is that you go with the pack in Andong for a little while, just until they think you’re…”

“Safe? Tamer? No longer a threat to everyone around me?”

“Trained,” Yuta finishes.

“The other options are that you go with the pack in the city during the week and come back here on the weekends. And the last one,” Hansol hesitates, “is that the three of us leave, together. We can go back to the way things were before, get an apartment for ourselves -”

“I’ll leave,” Jaemin interrupts quickly, eyes wide. The other two gape at him in surprise. “I’ll go with the pack in the city, or to the one in Andong, it doesn’t matter, just. No. I’ll leave, you stay here.”

“Jaem, we should talk about this,” Yuta insists. Hansol nods in agreement, pleading Jaemin with his eyes. “Let’s think this through.”

“No.” Jaemin already made up his mind, thank you. “No, I’m not letting you do this. I can’t make you leave this house, period. This is your home; this is where the guys are. I can’t ask you to give that up for me.”

“This is your home, too,” Yuta says gently.

Jaemin denies with his head. “No one wants me here anymore, so no.”

“That’s not true,” Hansol snaps. “Please don’t tell me you really believe that.”

Jaemin doesn’t answer that. Hansol sighs and looks at Yuta for support, but the younger wolf is staring at Jaemin helplessly. For the first time in years, neither knows how to reach their boy.

“Jaemin. Look at me,” Hansol presses. “You matter to us more than anyone else in this house. We only want what’s best for you, regardless of what it might be. If living on our own, just us three, is what that is, then fine.”

“You’d have to leave Ten,” Jaemin mumbles. “He doesn’t even want to see me in pictures.”

“Then so be it,” Yuta says. “We’re a family, Jaemin, we’re not splitting up.”

Jaemin sniffs, trying his hardest to hold back the tears. He shakes his head once more, adamant on making his refusal known. “You can’t leave this place. I’ll leave. I’ll go to the pack in Andong.”

“No.” “Jaemin, please, just listen to us.”

Jaemin doesn’t. He bolts out of bed and runs for the door, already knowing where Johnny and Taeyong are. He can hear them in the backyard, where Kun, Ten and Renjun also seem to be. Jaemin races past faces that mean the entire world to him yet doesn’t stop for any of them. All eyes turn to him when he accidentally bangs the doors open in his haste. Renjun shoots him a puzzled look that Jaemin doesn’t acknowledge.

“I’ll go to Andong. I’ll leave,” Jaemin says to Taeyong. Renjun shouts his disagreement immediately, but Jaemin isn’t listening to anyone anymore. He repeats, “I’ll leave. But please don’t make Hansol and Yuta hyungs leave too. It’s not fair, they haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Are… are you sure about this?” Kun eyes him up and down carefully, seizing him up.

“Yes.” Jaemin is glad his voice doesn’t break. He has to appear as calm as he can, although he thinks he might have ruined that with such dramatic entrance.

“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Renjun exclaims. He isn’t talking to Jaemin however. He’s talking directly to Johnny and Taeyong, who are silent, clearly thinking.

Johnny looks mad. It doesn’t matter that Jaemin hasn’t seen him in days, he could recognize that look anywhere. Taeyong, on the other hand, just looks sad. A snowflake lands on the tip of Jaemin’s nose, serving to remind him that it’s winter, just three days after New Year and, while the others bundled up accordingly to the weather, he didn’t.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Taeyong asks him.

Jaemin nods, not trusting himself to speak. Renjun makes a sound of despair and says, “Then I’m going with him.”

“No, you’re not,” Ten snaps at him. He didn’t say anything when Jaemin came outside, and he didn’t say anything when he made his decision known, but at this, he draws the line. “You’re staying right here.”

“He’s my best friend,” Renjun hisses. When Ten doesn’t say anything else, Renjun shakes his head. “Fuck you.”

Ten swivels his head around to look at him, surprise and disbelief on his features, but Renjun is already stepping over the flower patch, knowingly trampling years of work, all to reach Jaemin and drag him inside the house.

“You’re freezing,” Renjun frowns. His gloved hands rub up and down on Jaemin’s exposed arms, hoping it’ll warm him up some. “Jesus, Jaemin, what are you, stupid? How could you say you’re leaving?”

“It’s for the best,” Jaemin croaks. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before next Christmas,” he tries to joke, but it falls flat. Truthfully, he doesn’t know if that will be enough time for him to become safe.

Renjun looks up at him with teary eyes. He realises he isn’t going to change Jaemin’s mind, and as pissed off as that makes him, he knows it would be a waste of breath to try. Then, more than a little heartbroken, Renjun drags Jaemin into a hug that nearly crushes Jaemin’s ribs. Jaemin succumbs into the hug, wrapping his arms around Renjun as well, careful not to harm his wings.

Renjun smells nice. Jaemin knows he will miss Renjun the most and tightens his hold, letting himself cry. Renjun is crying too, and they’ve gathered an audience. Jaemin’s face is hidden on Renjun’s shoulder but he can still hear Donghyuck crying somewhere to their right, Mark trying and failing to console him.

“This is bullshit,” Jungwoo audibly hisses at someone in the backyard.

Jaemin tunes them out. The severity of his decision is sinking in and he’s having a hard time processing it. He starts to shake, resembling a leaf in the wind in everyone’s eyes.

“Idiot,” Renjun says through tears, muffed in Jaemin’s cotton shirt. “How dare you say you’re leaving?”

“I love you,” is Jaemin’s only response.

“I love you too.”

A commotion rises in tandem outside. Soon, it’s hard to tell the difference between one shout and another, although Jaemin can tell some voices apart. Renjun pulls away from the hug when the yelling becomes too big to ignore and Donghyuck takes his place right away, quite obviously angling Jaemin away from the large windows and glass doors.

“That’s a big decision you just made in, what, ten minutes?” he accuses. There’s no heat behind it.

“It’s the best for everyone,” Jaemin defends it.

Mark makes his presence known, as well as Jeno. They form a loose circle around Jaemin while Mark, his eyes huge with fear and determination, says, “I meant it when I said I’d go with you.”

“We all did,” Jeno supports him. Normally, hearing his best friends be so supportive of him would make him feel better, but that isn’t the case tonight.

Jaemin shakes his head furiously. “No, no. You’re all staying here and I’m going, that’s final.” He isn’t changing his mind about that, either.

~

The fight outside was due to the fact that Yuta and Hansol, after hearing that Taeyong and Johnny had been so accepting of Jaemin’s decision, demanded to go with him. Ten didn’t agree with it, Kun supported it, Taeyong pleaded for them to wait until a more reasonable moment to discuss it and no one listened.

Within minutes, all the adults were outside, arguing amongst themselves. It wasn’t just about Yuta and Hansol wanting to go, no, that they understood. It was also because they weren’t okay with Jaemin choosing to leave for Andong when, honestly, most of them wanted him to stay within sight. Most, but not all of them. Doyoung insisted it was for the best, backed up by Jaehyun and Ten. Even Sicheng, who doesn’t want to see Jaemin go, agrees that this is the best option for Jaemin at the moment. Taeil participated in the conversation for once, arguing that there were other ways to help Jaemin. Ten asked him, perhaps harsher than he should have, what those options were, exactly. Taeil didn’t have an answer for that.

You have to understand that Ten isn’t a bad guy. He loves Jaemin, he truly does, and he’s seen the kid grow up, for crying out loud. But if there’s something that he’s never managed to shake off is his wariness of predators. As a kid, Ten didn’t have good encounters with big animals and, in spite of being one of the sweetest boys that he’s had the pleasure of knowing, Jaemin is still one of them.

After what happened with Jisung, Ten isn’t sure where he stands in regards of Jaemin. On one hand, he sees him as the bubbly fourteen year old boy that befriended Renjun within seconds, that can manage to brighten up a room with a smile and that was the most supportive when Ten joined Yuta and Hansol in their relationship. Ten sees Jaemin and sees a kind heart and a loving soul, typically incapable of harming a fly.

But he also sees what’s happening. Jaemin spent his formative years in an abusive household, surrounded by people that treated him as if he were less than they were, that never taught him how to control his shifts or to keep his temper under check. After Jaemin ran away, he was able to find the two people that love him most in the entire world, but they weren’t ready to raise a teenager. They can manage human Jaemin just fine, because he isn’t the problem. Human Jaemin is wonderful.

Wolf Jaemin is the true problem. Ten asked Hansol to explain the difference to him, once, after learning how Jaemin has to spend the day before, during and after a full moon completely shifted because otherwise he might lose control. The gist of it was that every shifter has an animal inside, and that often times that animal is a whole separate being from them.

It seems like wolf Jaemin took it upon himself to be Jaemin’s protector. He first made an appearance when Jaemin was in danger as a child, and up until a week ago, that had been the worst one. Now, they have the incident with Jisung, who really didn’t do anything to warrant such reaction from him.

Jaemin needs help. He isn’t safe for them anymore, he isn’t safe for himself, either, and that’s all Ten wants. The anger problems and his inability to control his shifts, they don’t just affect the household but primarily harm Jaemin. And if spending some time with a pack in Andong, where there’s plenty of acres to run free and let his wolf loose long enough to tame it, then what’s the harm?

However, Ten realises he could’ve handled it better. In fact, they all could have.

After arriving home to a sobbing, terrified Jisung, Ten is guilty of becoming biased. He wasn’t there to see just how badly affected Jaemin was, and by the time he came downstairs, Ten had chalked up his tears and clear shame as him playing the victim.

Gosh, Ten is such a _dick_ sometimes.

Then there was the whole discussion among the members of the household – minus Jaemin, of course, his best friends and Taeil, who called them all absolute idiots and refused to participate – where everyone behaved like a douche. The first meeting saw everyone agreeing that they had to do something about Jaemin, with the reluctant support even of Taeyong and Jungwoo, and most elected to send him someplace where he could receive the help he needs. Someplace far away, apparently.

The second meeting brought upon second thoughts, but Ten still had his head so far up his ass he could wave hello to his colon and refused to entertain the idea of keeping Jaemin close. No matter how much he tried – which wasn’t much, Jesus – he couldn’t shake off the sight of Jisung crying and huddled up in Chenle’s arms.

When Jaemin ran downstairs, burst outside and told Taeyong that he wanted to leave, Ten felt vindicated. Another asshole move, completed by him snapping at Renjun. It didn’t matter to Ten that Jaemin was so clearly sleep deprived, and that it didn't seem like he made that decision in a right frame of mind.

Of course, Hansol wasn’t happy about the decision and claimed he’d go along with him, to which Yuta agreed wholeheartedly. That was the moment Ten understood the implications, and if that isn’t just the icing on the cake? Asshole suddenly doesn’t want to send a child far away when he thinks about his boyfriends leaving with him.

Ten knows he’s called himself an asshole plenty times already, but he’s going to do it again anyway. He’s an asshole.

Johnny brought them down from their fantastical ideas of going away with him. He reminded them, not unkindly, that Jaemin made this decision specifically so they wouldn’t have to go anywhere. And Yuta, albeit reluctantly, agreed that Jaemin said that he didn’t want anyone going with him. Not Jeno, not Renjun, not Donghyuck, not Mark and certainly not them. It hurts, but they deserve it.

Ten will never admit it aloud, but he’s glad they decided to stay. Even if the decision came out of respect of Jaemin’s wishes than anything else. Now, sitting on their bed while the two wolves pace around him, Ten doesn’t know what to do. Ten wishes he knew how to explain that he’s having a hard time coming to terms with what he does and doesn’t want without sounding like a self-centred dick.

Yuta zips his backpack. Regardless of them staying or not, they insisted to at least accompany Jaemin to the pack house, meeting the guys there and overall making sure they were making the right decision, so they talked to the one in charge and he said there was no problem with them staying for the weekend. Nothing about this felt right, but, you know, semantics.

“I’m ready, you?” Yuta asks Hansol. They aren’t ignoring Ten, exactly, but they’re angry and the last thing they want is to get into another argument minutes before they leave.

“Ready.” Hansol also zips his bag. Ten’s skin tingles, thinking that they either will address him now or will leave without saying a word.

Thankfully, it’s the first. Ten averts his eyes when Yuta crouches in front of him and hides behind his bangs, not wanting to appear as vulnerable as he feels. It doesn’t matter how many years it’s been, Ten still feels like the scared teenager he was all that time ago.

“Honey,” Yuta says softly, pleading Ten to look at him. “It’s time for us to go.”

Ten nods jerkily. Despite of his efforts, tears spring to his eyes and flow down his cheeks. Yuta wipes them away gently and offers him a wobbly smile. “We’ll be back in a few days, don’t worry.”

“That’s not the problem,” Ten mutters. “Jaemin hates me now. Renjun hates me. You probably hate me. I’m so sorry.”

“We could never hate you,” Yuta denies firmly. “We don’t agree with your vote or your argument but we don’t hate you, we love you. People fight when they’re in a relationship and that’s normal.”

It helps, but it doesn’t alleviate the guilt. Ten shakes his head and sheds a couple more tears. “It’s not that I don’t want Jaemin around. I just want him to be better and this might be the way to get it.”

“Yeah, but, you have to admit, you didn’t go about it very well.”

Hansol kneels next to Yuta and grabs Ten’s hand in his. “Hey. I wanna show you something.” Hansol reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small, velvet box. “We’ve been holding onto this for weeks. We planned to give it to you on your birthday but…”

Ten takes the box with shaky hands, turning it over several times. “Should I open it now?”

“Yes,” Yuta says, and he sounds anxious.

It’s a ring. A fucking ring. Ten’s heart stops long enough for him to think he’s dead. He can’t stop looking at it, the tiny diamonds encrusted on the golden band. Yuta takes it out of the box for him and, after a moment of hesitation, he slides the ring onto Ten’s finger.

“So? Will you?” Hansol asks.

There aren’t any words that could possibly explain what Ten is feeling. He only nods, cries harder and clings onto them when they pull him down to the ground in a hug. The ring feels heavy on him, emotionally wise as well as physically.

The two wolves kiss every inch of skin they can reach of Ten. Ten can’t tell anymore if the tears on his neck and collarbones are his or theirs, not that it would make much of a difference. He has to make a conscious effort not to lift off the ground with how hard his wings are fluttering, although the arms weighing him down help as well.

“We love you,” Yuta whispers against his skin, “so, so much, Ten. And we can’t wait to marry you.”

“How?” Ten asks, laughing tearfully. “There are three of us and we’re dudes.”

Hansol snorts. “The ceremony, we’re planning to make it more symbolical. Renjun said he’d help, although now…”

“He might not want to,” Ten finishes for him. Everything hurts and he feels like his heart might not be able to take so many conflicting emotions at the same time.

Hansol makes a whining sound. “No, don’t be sad. This is all going to be over soon, I promise. Renjun won’t be angry for long and Jaemin will be back sooner than you think.”

Yuta nods, eager to convince Ten. Not an easy task, however. “I know this isn’t the best timing in the world but we couldn’t bear the thought of going away without asking.”

“I love it,” Ten shakes his head, referring not just to the ring but also to the proposal. “I love you. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”

“Other than Renjun, you mean.” Hansol and Yuta share a cheeky smile.

Ten, like he did, snorts in response. “Of course. That goes without saying.”

The three stay on the ground for several more minutes, breathing each other in. But they need to leave and eventually they have to stand up. While they collect their bags, Ten does his best to look presentable. When he glimpses into the mirror next to the door, wiping the last stray tears away, he catches sight of the ring glinting in the light and, strangely, instead of filling him with dread or pain, it helps lift a weight off his shoulders. It’s a promise, in many ways: they aren’t just saying they will spend their lives with him; they’re promising to accept him with his flaws and bad decision making skills.

Downstairs, the front entrance is bursting with people. As they have the last two weeks, the kids are huddled around Jaemin, creating a protective barrier between him and the rest of the house. Jisung also has his own personal bodyguards, Yukhei and Chenle, although they seem to be there more for emotional support than for protection.

“You don’t have to go,” Jisung whispers. “Please, you really don’t have to do this.”

“I kinda have to,” Jaemin shrugs. He laughs dryly, humourless.

Jisung looks like he wants to go to him, but he doesn’t. Instead, he simply says, “I’m gonna miss you.”

Jaemin doesn’t answer. Taeyong quickly kills the awkward silence, steps forward to wrap a scarf around Jaemin’s neck, saying how it might be windy out in the country. “Wouldn’t want you catching a cold, right?”

Goodbyes are quick. They’re also awkward and painful as all hell. Renjun looks like he’d rather lose a limb than see Jaemin go, but he has to let go of his arm eventually, even if he does so reluctantly.

“We sorted things out for you in your uni,” Johnny says. His voice is gruff from lack of sleep and he can’t meet Jaemin’s eyes. Ten knows Johnny doesn’t want to see him go and that, if he weren’t so ashamed of the things he’s done, he’d voice so immediately. “You’ll be taking online classes through their website and, once you get back, you can take an exam so they can measure where you’re standing regarding your curriculum so you can continue normally.”

“Okay. Thanks,” Jaemin nods.

Yangyang is next, his two partners right behind him. Yangyang was the first of the three to come around, going into Jaemin’s room after one of his nightmares and apologizing for behaving the way he did. Kunhang was next, although his apology came in the way of making roasted chicken for the wolf. Dejun, with his metaphorical leg between his legs, only told Jaemin how sorry he was for ignoring him last night.

Despite of having said their proper goodbyes last night, the three angels shuffle forward to give him one last farewell. Yangyang, unarguably the closest of them to Jaemin, crushes him in a bear hug. If Ten isn’t mistaken, he thinks he sees Jaemin tear up. Dejun and Kunhang aren’t as close to him as Yangyang is, but they both clap his back and give him quick hugs before retreating to Kun’s side.

Apparently, looking like death crawled over is the recurring theme. Jeno, so unlike his usual self, is tired, his face grey and his eyes sullen. He moves to stand in front of Jaemin’s line of vision and says, “We’ll come visit you as often as we can.”

“No.” Jaemin gulps tightly. “Don’t.”

“It’s just a train ride away,” Donghyuck insists, teary eyed. “Really, it’s no trouble at all.”

Jaemin shakes his head. “That’s not it. I don’t want you to come visit me.”

“Why?” Renjun asks. So far, he hasn’t even acknowledged Ten’s presence in the room, and if that isn’t a blow to the gut. Regardless, Ten knows he had it coming. He deserves the cold shoulder.

“It’ll be too hard,” Jaemin whispers. “I’m already gonna miss you like hell, I don’t want to get used to your absence only for you to come see me and throw all that out the window.”

“Video call, then,” Jeno suggests but Jaemin shakes his head again. Slightly more desperate now, the four continue to throw out ideas that Jaemin shoots down faster than they can say them. “No, just no. Please, I just want to get through these as fast as I can. I’ll see you when I come back.” That’s final.

Hansol steps forward, backpack slung over his shoulder. His knuckles are turning white from his grasp on Jaemin’ s suitcase. “Come on, we don’t wanna miss our train.”

The adults said their goodbyes to Jaemin the night before. This isn’t the first time someone has gone away for a while, whether for a semester abroad in college or for work or family reasons, but it is certainly a first for them to have such air hanging around them. Ten’s used to the night before departure to be a night where everyone’s together, either gathered in the living room or rec room or anywhere else they could fit, but last night was cold. Most couldn’t stand being in the same room as the others and said their goodbyes in private.

Everyone choruses a mixture of good wishes, except for Ten. He stands closer to the studio than to the entrance, turning the ring over on his finger over and over, running the pad of his index finger over the diamonds. Right before Jaemin steps outside, Ten tries to open his mouth, knowing he’ll regret it if he allows Jaemin to walk out that door without saying anything. But then the opportunity passes and the wolves are gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: originally, yusol went to andong with jaemin, but 3k into part 2 i realised i had NO PLANS for them??? like i have a whole arc that's just jaemin and san bonding/making out but not for yusol so i changed it lol
> 
> pls look forward to part 2!!


	4. more than i've always been (pt2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i keep lying to everyone including myself this is gonna be three parts
> 
> also this chapter is messy but it matches jaemin's mental health so uh yeah

It isn’t so bad, all things considered. Jaemin thought he’d resemble a regular Bella Swan within hours, sitting in front of the bedroom window and watching the seasons pass, but the truth is he hasn’t had time to do it. From the moment they arrived to the farm house, they've taken Jaemin from one place to another, from one activity to the next. In three days, he’s grown familiar to three square miles of forest around the property, a feat that took him far longer to master in his own home.

There’s a nice scent in the early hours of the day out here, especially now that the snow has stopped falling as much. The morning dew is pleasant, the morning light even more so, and Jaemin, who was never one to wake up before dawn, takes the habit of being up and about early enough to greet the sun in the peak of the hills. There’s a certain peace in Andong that he didn’t know he needed so much.

It helps that the pack is so nice. Upon arrival in Andong, a sweet young man named Yeosang greets them at the train station, packed with a bucketful of pleasantries and kind smiles. However, Yeosang also drives like a maniac, and Jaemin thanks the heavens there aren’t too many cars in the road. Yuta murmurs increasingly more colourful words as the ride becomes bumpier, and Hansol grips the passenger’s seat cushion like a lifeline. Yeosang doesn’t seem to notice any of it, chatting happily, as he drives and further cements himself as a menace to the public.

The farm house captures Jaemin’s attention before they are even out of the car. The two story house sits brown and black in a backdrop of pure white, a few parts of the roof looking in dire need of some handy work. Jaemin steps out of the car and, for once forgetting about how miserable he is, he rushes to follow Yeosang up the steps to the front door, inspecting the flower pots on the porch. There is dirt on and around the plants, perhaps because whoever looks after them doesn’t care about tidiness. Jaemin thinks Kun would have a stroke if he saw the mess, then immediately his mood dampens.

Waiting for them at the front entrance are two people. One of them, Hongjoong, welcomes them to their home with a kind smile, while the other offers to carry their bags upstairs. Hongjoong says, “You must be tired, so why don’t you freshen up and we’ll call you when it’s time for dinner, yeah?”

There’s only one bed. Mingi, the boy that helped them carry their bags upstairs, rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and apologizes for the inconvenience. Jaemin thinks he’s cute and mumbles something that’s meant to be a reassurance that it’s fine as he walks to the window. He can’t see nothing but snow for as far as his gaze goes, except for the trees and occasional patch of flowers. In spite of being a farm state, there aren’t any animals around. Jaemin spotted, on the other side of the house, a large expanse of what looked like a cornfield. Of course, the winter isn’t allowing anything to grow for now, but it’s there. Yeosang told them, on the drive here, that when the weather allows it they grow vegetables and fruits, as a mean to make some extra money.

Yuta tries to make small talk, to no avail. Jaemin isn’t in the mood to talk, depressed beyond belief. His eyes are downcast and his shoulders slumped, although they brighten up a bit when he sees the space around them. Besides, Jaemin doesn’t believe they actually want to talk. They might have wanted to come here, perhaps out of guilt, but soon enough they’ll leave. Jaemin swears he won’t hold it against them, even if it kills him.

At dinner, Jaemin tries his best not to speak. He picks at the food on his plate and avoids eye contact, hoping to go unnoticed. He knows it’s impossible, and tries anyway.

No one lets him do that. A kid his age, who introduced himself as Jongho, chatters his ear off throughout the whole ordeal. Jaemin nods along to whatever he’s rambling about and does everything he can, not just to listen but to reciprocate, and knows he falls short. At least, Jongho doesn’t appear upset about it. When everyone’s done eating and Mingi is clearing the plates from the table, Jongho offers Jaemin a hand and, smiling, wishes him a nice stay.

There’s also Hongjoong. Hongjoong is the leader, Jaemin guesses. He was the one to greet them first when they walked through the front door and the one who told them the rules of the house – all very understandable and easy to follow, such as no loud noises after ten pm and no fights inside the house. He talks to Yuta and Hansol through most of dinner, although he directs many questions and comments to Jaemin.

Jaemin doesn’t sleep much that night. Yuta snores up a storm, but that isn’t so surprising. He’s never had any trouble sleeping. Hansol, as far as Jaemin can tell, is awake as well. Jaemin doesn’t try to talk and Hansol, thankfully, leaves him alone. Or, at least as much as he can, given they’re sleeping on the same bed.

Jaemin is awake before either of them is, out to run and then back for breakfast only to head back outside for training. Hansol knows better than to hound him for attention, even if he looks after him with longing and Yuta is upset, understandably so, when he realises he’s on the receiving end of the cold shoulder. That first day, everyone pretends not to see what’s going on between the three of them, but that doesn’t last too long.

Seonghwa, as the second day comes to an end, suggests he goes on a hike with them. Jaemin, tired of feeling disjointed and separated from his family, takes him up on that advice. He seeks them out and makes the offer before he can chicken out, blinking in surprise when their answer is as quick as eager. The hike proves to be a good idea – it opens a door for them, a line of communication that wasn’t there since almost two months back.

It’s not to say things are perfect right away. Jaemin is hurt and having trouble trusting them again, but he’s willing to try. That’s more than either of them could hope for. And when the next morning comes and is time for them to leave, Jaemin works up the courage to hug them goodbye. The hold is brief and he pulls away quickly as if burnt.

Not long after, Jaemin thinks he can say he’s established a friendship with the pack. Once more, he thought he’d be isolated and lonely during his stay, especially now that his only links to his family are gone, but he’s proven wrong. Wooyoung is of similar size to him in wolf form and isn’t afraid to take on Jaemin in playful scuffles, and Yunho develops the habit to slide him extra slices of meat at dinner if Jaemin’s had a particularly rough day. Mingi and Seonghwa, in spite of their rough exteriors, are sweet and always make sure to include Jaemin during their hunts.

Everyone helps in their own way, and Jaemin is thankful to them for that, but he doesn’t forget for a second the real reason he’s here.

Hongjoong informs Jaemin on the night of their arrival that he will be personally responsible for Jaemin’s training. He says the word ‘training’ without hesitation, but also like it isn’t anything out of the ordinary. The last thing he needs is a reminder of the fact that he’s dangerous. Hongjoong reassures Hansol that Jaemin will be in good hands and that he would never be in any real harm.

Along with him, San and Yunho accompany Jaemin every day to a more secluded area of the state, at least three miles from the farm house. They run there, in fact, in human form, and Jaemin is soaked in sweat when it’s over, never mind that they’re still in winter and the snow is thick enough to leave tracks for miles. He sets aside three old cotton t-shirts for the run and a pair of sweatpants he doesn’t feel too bad about destroying, and within a week all those clothing items are far from usable in public anymore. The sweatpants have holes torn in them from all the times he trips and falls on the run and he wears out the t-shirts in record time.

The training sessions aren’t what Jaemin expected. He thought they’d be running a lot, to wear him out or something, and while that is something they do, it isn’t all they do. The first day, Hongjoong sits him down on a boulder and asks Jaemin to list all the things that make him angry. Jaemin balks at the question, blinking unsurely.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Hongjoong, in spite of being aware that Jaemin knows what he means, elaborates for his benefit. “I want to know the things that piss you off. Is it someone waking you up before 8 am? Someone taking the last drumstick?”

“No?” Jaemin scratches the back of his neck. “None of those things bother me, really.”

Yunho had shifted to wolf form the second they made it to the clearing. He stops circling the boulder to settle by Hongjoong’s side, his muzzle resting on Hongjoong’s knee. Hongjoong sits in a big rock across from Jaemin in what people call a “manspread”, his knees far apart and his hands supporting his weight behind his back. Jaemin will admit to being half intimated and half turned on. San, on the other hand, is still human. Much like Hongjoong, he’s wearing only his jeans. Jaemin does a conscious effort not to ogle at the older boy as he paces the small clearing and picks at fallen fruits. How he isn’t affected at all by the cold is a mystery.

“Okay,” Hongjoong nods, accepting Jaemin’s answer. “Tell me about your outburst with Jisung.”

Jaemin isn’t surprised Hongjoong knows about it. After all, it was the last straw, the reason he’s here. San takes a seat next to Hongjoong and focuses his attention on Jaemin, Yunho’s intense brown eyes boring into his. None looks like they judge Jaemin for what happened, though.

“It’s embarrassing. And stupid,” he warns. The three remain silent. Jaemin sighs and tells them. He doesn’t fail to mention that he knew he was overreacting, yet he couldn’t help it. “I didn’t feel like myself. It was like something else took over me.”

Hongjoong examines him for some long seconds. San does, as well, but he doesn’t scrutinize him quite as obviously as his leader does.

“What if he is better off without you?”

The question throws Jaemin off track. He wasn’t expecting something so harsh, especially not from San. San had been nothing but kind to Jaemin so far.

“Excuse me?” Jaemin says, almost stutters if he didn’t catch himself on time.

San shrugs, as if he doesn’t need to explain himself. Hongjoong doesn’t say anything to that.

“I’m just saying, maybe you shouldn’t expect Jisung to forgive you. Even if hyung can get you back into society appropriate shape, that was shitty of you. I’m not sure Jisung deserves that kind of crap. Maybe he’s better off dating that Woochul kid.”

Jaemin should know better than to let that comment affect him. And yet.

And yet his blood boils at the thought. His shoulders tense and his hackles rise, furious within seconds at the offhanded words and nonchalant attitude from San. Jaemin doesn’t notice his claws spring out until he’s scratching the rock beneath him and it hurts his fingers, but it’s too late. He’s already half transformed when San shifts as well.

If Jaemin were more aware of his surroundings, he’d be able to tell how strange it is that Hongjoong is watching him with careful eyes, not stepping in or saying a word to his friend about angering him. Yunho stays right where he is, perched on Hongjoong’s knee, occasionally wagging his tail when Hongjoong scratches behind his ears.

San and Jaemin meet in a clash of bites and snarls. San isn’t big, but he’s strong and he’s quick. He’s able to predict almost all of Jaemin’s movements and has him pinned to the ground embarrassingly quick, growling in Jaemin’s neck.

Jaemin has no choice but to relent. He whimpers, pitifully, in an attempt to convey that he gives up. San releases him after a final growl, retreating to Hongjoong’s side. Jaemin stays on the ground, embarrassed of his reaction as well of being beat so easily. He pants, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. A part of him wants to go back to his human form, but he doesn’t want to be naked in front of his new friends. If they’re still friends after all this, that is.

A cold nose presses against his side. Jaemin’s eyes blink open to find Yunho sniffing him, huffing and puffing as he goes. He’s trying to comfort him, Jaemin realises belatedly, and the action brings tears to his eyes. Before he knows it, he’s crying, making pathetic whining sounds in the back of his throat. San approaches him, too, and begins to lick around Jaemin’s ears, an insanely protective and comforting thing. No one’s ever done that for him.

Hongjoong crouches next to him and pets Jaemin once, twice, then plops down, his legs crossed like a pretzel, and manoeuvres Jaemin’s head to be on his lap. “Listen, I’m sorry about that. I asked San to say those things.” Jaemin’s confused and tries to convey as such, but he can’t very well talk. “I wanted to see just how badly things were and knew San would be able to take you. I apologize for upsetting you. You wanna hear some good news, though?”

Jaemin lifts his head to see him properly. Hongjoong’s blond hair glows under the sunlight and there’s a kind smile on his face. “You’re far from hopeless. Honestly, the way they made it sound, I thought we’d be dealing with a tiny monster. You’re not a monster, Jaemin. You’re not broken. You’re gonna be just fine.”

That makes Jaemin cry more.

~

Three months pass by. April rolls around and Jaemin… he’s improved in more ways than one.

For starters, he can hold his temper even when they try their best to upset him. At first, he would flare easily, snapping and inevitably finding himself pinned to the forest ground by San, still snapping and growling even after he’s been subdued, only submitting if San or Hongjoong growled down at him. And it was rare for Hongjoong to get involved, usually sitting feet away and watching with calculating eyes. Yunho was more likely to jump in if Jaemin looked like he might break free from San’s grasp, or if he was afraid the situation would get out of control.

It isn’t like they thought San was in danger. In fact, they feared San accidentally harming Jaemin more than the other way around. It does happen, a few times, that Jaemin kicks and struggles more than usual and San is forced to truly press down. Mostly, Jaemin gets away from those sessions with a few bruises and a wounded ego, but one time he suffers a near fracture of his arm. Yeosang is a nurse and he fixes him up before they can blink and Jaemin has to wear a tight, yellow bandage around his arm for up to two weeks, and is absolutely forbidden from any kind of physical activity that might further the damage. It means he has to stay indoors most of his time, catching up on his course work and playing videogames with Seonghwa in the living room.

San was beyond himself with guilt, teary eyed and panicked from the second they heard that crunch and Jaemin stilled before howling in pain. He would have stepped down from his charge if Jaemin didn’t ask him specifically to please continue working with him. However, he was never able to do things they used to after that.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to. Soon after they resume his training – or, as Jaemin has taken to calling it in his mind, his anger management classes – Jaemin is considerably tamer and calmer. It isn’t long before hours go by and Jaemin remains fresh as a lettuce, perhaps scowling or grumbling under his breath.

One morning after breakfast, Hongjoong claps Jaemin on the shoulder and announces that he’s officially done with his anger issues. “Don’t think you’re free to go yet, though,” he continues before Jaemin can get too excited. “We still need you to stay for a while longer so you can learn how to fight, properly, without ripping someone’s head off. Wooyoung is gonna tag along from now on.”

“Not San hyung?” Jaemin tries not to make it so obvious he’s disappointed. Hongjoong’s eyes soften as he says, “I think he’s just worried he’ll hurt you. I’m sure you can talk him into coming with us, if you wanna try.”

Jaemin pretty much races to San’s and Wooyoung’s shared room. Wooyoung is just stepping out, dressed in sweatpants and a muscle tee, and he smiles almost knowingly at Jaemin when he sees him.

“San’s pretending not to sulk in there,” he informs him.

In fact, San is sitting on his bed, looking at his phone. He balks when he sees Jaemin standing on the threshold, his eyes flickering to the paler patch of skin on Jaemin’s arm with guilt. Jaemin knocks on the open door, a formality, before asking, “Can I come inside?”

“Sure,” San nods. He locks his phone and puts it on his bedside table, face down. “I heard you’re off training. That’s great.”

Jaemin smiles, or tries to. It feels strange, this interaction with San. It’s stilted, awkward, and so very unlike his usual conversations with him. San isn’t looking at him directly and he keeps ruffling up his hair, as if a nervous habit he can’t control.

“I heard you don’t want to teach me to fight,” Jaemin counters. A strange expression freezes on San’s face and Jaemin sighs, ready to bolt out and away from confrontation.

“I hurt you plenty,” San stares pointedly at his arm. “Wouldn’t want that happening again.”

“Do you really think I’d let you get the upper hand again?” Jaemin taunts him.

San smiles, taking the bait. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Other things change, too. Jaemin’s mental health improves exponentially. Within the first week, Yeosang and Hongjoong put their foot down and demanded they take Jaemin to a therapist; they don’t know how it never occurred to them – to any of them – that Jaemin might need professional help.

They put him on a combination of meds and on biweekly appointments with a doctor in town. Often times, Jongho goes with him to town and, after he’s out of the consult, they go to the arcade or to the shopping strip to hang out together. Jaemin likes to have someone his age in the house, someone he doesn’t have to worry about formalities or honorifics with.

Jongho jokes around with him, stays up late watching movies on his laptop with him and doesn’t mind when Jaemin gets a little rough when they roughhouse. He’s high spirited and the only person Jaemin knows that smiles upon waking, regardless of the hour.

He also doesn’t say anything when Jaemin walks out of his appointments with tears running down his face. Sometimes, Jaemin can’t control himself and bawls in his doctor’s arms, and on such occasions, Jongho says fuck it to protocol and bursts into the room to hug Jaemin with all his might – which is, to say, a lot, because the kid is freakishly strong.

Jaemin opens up to his doctor about the hell he went through because of his first pack. He talks about the wandering hands and the cruel words. The doctor is a fairy in disguise and she doesn’t seem surprised to hear the things they’d do, although she looks angry and downright murderous once. It’s a slip of her façade, certainly not what she should do, but Jaemin likes that she let her guard down for him.

~

The day is slowly giving way to night. Jaemin pants from his spot on the ground, his fur matted with sweat and dirt. To his right, Wooyoung seems to be seriously debating whether he should get up to drink from the stream or if it would be too much trouble, and sitting not far away are the others, chatting among each other happily.

It was a clear, windy day and, not wanting it to go to waste; they’d packed up their things early in the morning and set out for the rolling hills. Jaemin thinks they must have walked for close to two hours, although it felt like minutes with the easy banter and the cool breeze that blew constantly. Jongho carried Yeosang the second half of the trip on his back, in spite of the light-hearted complaints he received in return. Hongjoong, upon noticing so, was quick to hop onto Seonghwa’s back with a shit eating grin on his face.

San and Jaemin walked shoulder to shoulder most of the trip. Their hands brushed every other step and Jaemin pretended it didn’t send him into cardiac arrest each time. Wooyoung, the annoying ass he is, shared amused glances with Mingi and Yunho as soon as they noticed, but none said a word.

They arrived at a large clearing. There was enough room to rival the expanse of their farm and a body of water cut through the middle of it. The trees around it were tall and thick and the ground overflew with flowers. Jaemin thought back to the picnics he’s had with the boys back home, how Donghyuck and Renjun always roped them into making flower crowns and then exchanging them and how he and Yukhei would chase each other until they were too tired to keep moving.

Surprisingly, the memory didn’t weight in his heart. It has been a long while since he felt like crying upon thinking of his family, and he’s now able to talk about them to the pack without his voice breaking through every sentence. It isn’t much, at least not in his eyes, but his therapist insists it means he’s making good progress.

They sat down close to the river and ate to their hearts’ content everything they brought. There were sandwiches, pastries, and enough junk food to give anyone a heart attack. Afterwards, while Hongjoong and Yeosang chilled under the awning of a tree with Yunho draped across their laps, the others chased each other around the clearing. The three of them, willingly sitting out of a mess, cheer them on equally as they try to one up each other in playful scuffles.

Jaemin feels happier than he has in a long time. In spite of all the months he’s been here, this is the first time Jaemin hung out with all of them at once. He’s had outings with everyone, to the shopping strip and to surrounding towns and cities as well, especially with Jongho and San.

The thought of San sends a shiver down Jaemin’s spine. Looking over to him, San and Mingi are in the process of chasing each other’s tails close to the river bank. Wooyoung, not one to be left behind when it came to kicking San’s ass, barrelled into them at the same time Seonghwa tackled Jaemin to the ground. Jongho, perhaps too happy about it, pounced on the two and effectively trapped Jaemin underneath them. At the very least, Jaemin is distracted from thinking about San.

The playtime goes on for hours. Eventually, even the three under the tree join them and Jaemin, perhaps for the first time in his life, understands what having a pack is like. It’s so much different to what his life is like back home and, for a moment, Jaemin found himself wishing he could stay here.

Now, as Jaemin tries to regain his breath, he realises the sky is significantly darker than it was a blink ago. Seonghwa is the one to point it out, however, and they all start to pack up the things they brought. Wooyoung doesn’t move from his spot and neither does Jaemin, both too tired from play-fighting to think about moving anytime soon.

Hongjoong approaches them once they’re ready to go. “We gotta go now, Jaem.” Then, at Jaemin’s pleading eyes, he whines. “Come on, don’t look at me like that, buddy. “

Wooyoung, protesting and whining the whole time, shifts back to human and allows Mingi to wrestle him into a pair of loose sweatpants and a hoodie to protect him from the night chill. Jaemin gives Hongjoong his best puppy eyes and he can see Hongjoong begin to wane when San speaks up, “I can stay with Jaemin until he’s rested.” At Hongjoong’s questioning gaze, he adds, “We wore him out, I really don’t think he can walk back right now. Don’t worry, I know the way home.”

Hongjoong thinks about it for a second before he nods. Slowly, the rest of the pack filters out of the clearing, reminding them not to stay here too long and to hurry back before it’s dark. San waves them all away and Jaemin tries to convey they’ll be fine with his eyes alone, although he doesn’t think he’s too successful.

San doesn’t approach Jaemin and rather stays where he is, under the cool shade of a tree. After maybe ten minutes, Jaemin musters the strength to approach him.

It’s funny how Jaemin’s inhibitions lower the second he’s in wolf form. It’s like a blanket that covers him and protects him from harm of any kind. Like this, he doesn’t fear or feels shame as he crawls on top of San and collapses on him, almost vibrating in pleasure as San pets him on the head.

“Why don’t you shift back?” the way he says it leaves no room for arguments.

Never mind that he’ll be naked, Jaemin does as he’s told and he finds himself sitting upright in San’s lap. San has one hand behind his back to hold his weight and the other rests lightly on the curve of Jaemin’s waist.

Jaemin’s read enough romance novels to think he knows how things go. There’s supposed to be an electric tension between them and a magnet pulling them close like gravity, but there isn’t. There’s just the touch of San’s fingers on Jaemin’s skin and the knowledge that this was a long time coming.

It’s a simple press of lips and San sighs into it like he’s been waiting for it a long time, which he has. They both have. Jaemin presses back, pushes their mouths together more forcefully because, now that he’s had a taste, he wants more. San laughs and allows Jaemin to bring them closer still with a hand behind San’s neck.

“Took you long enough,” Jaemin grumbles once they separate. San laughs again and sits up straight, his other hand coming to grab Jaemin so he doesn’t topple over.

“My bad,” San apologizes, except it doesn’t sound like an apology at all. “Hope it doesn’t mean I can’t keep kissing you.”

Jaemin grumbles something. San pretends he doesn’t hear and leans in teasingly, urging him to speak up. Jaemin shuts him up with another kiss.

Jaemin has only kissed four people in his life. First, there was Renjun, then there was Yuji, then Donghyuck – it was a game of truth or dare, you can’t judge him for it – and now San. He doesn’t think it’s fair to compare his first boyfriend at 15 or his crush at 16 to San, who’s turning 21 years old this year and has had more experience than they have.

They kiss for who knows how long. Jaemin feels content and at ease, basking in the warmth of San’s body and feeling more in tune with himself than he has for so long. Nonetheless, San pulls away after a particularly chilly breeze has Jaemin shivering and he frowns as he notices it’s night time already. Jaemin would protest if he weren’t genuinely cold and stark naked.

“Get dressed and we can go back,” San urges him, patting him twice to get him moving.

Jaemin, once more, doesn’t need to hear it twice and is quick to comply. His shoes, jeans and hoodie are right where he left them, plus a t-shirt that looks like it belongs to Mingi. They probably guessed they’d stay until dark and that a simple hoodie wouldn’t do much to keep Jaemin warm. The gesture makes Jaemin smile bashfully as he pulls on the clothes and yeah, this is definitely Mingi’s shirt. Mingi’s scent clings to the fabric and to Jaemin’s skin.

They walk in amicable silence. Nothing feels like it’s changed, except that now Jaemin isn’t so shy to grab San’s hand when he slips, and abashedly doesn’t let go once he regains his balance. San grins, tongue in cheek, and squeezes Jaemin’s hand once.

The trek is significantly harder in the dark, but Jaemin isn’t worried. It’s not like there are any cliffs or deep ponds they could fall into – at most, they might trip and scrape their knees, but nothing worse than that. There seem to be more animals in the area now that the night has fallen and they run into many of them, none showing fear at the sight of them. Jaemin is so used to animals being scared of him, he doesn’t know how to react when a deer trots by them without sparing them a glance.

“They really seem to trust you guys,” Jaemin comments. His mind is half on the path ahead and half on San’s fingers interlocked with his. “Back home, animals fled when they heard us coming. Or maybe it was just me,” he adds humourlessly.

San frowns in his direction and tugs on Jaemin’s hand so Jaemin will look at him. “That’s not you, not anymore. The animals here don’t run because they know they can trust us. We don’t kill them, not even during our hunts. And neither do you.”

Jaemin concedes that. “I guess.”

Another handful of minutes go by in silence. They’re nearing the house, the lights visible through the trees, when San halts suddenly. “Before we get there. I need to say something.”

Jaemin turns his body to face San and nods in understanding. San seems to debate with himself, looking for the right words to say. Jaemin waits patiently, watching intently the way San’s eyebrows furrow in concentration and his jaw clenches. A fire burns in the pit of Jaemin’s stomach. God, he’s so taken with this boy.

“What are your plans once you go home?” San asks him. His voice sounds remarkably softer than usual. “What will you do about Jisung?”

Jaemin won’t lie and say he didn’t expect this conversation. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with it at the moment. And, honestly? He has no idea what he’s going to do. There’s no doubt in him that his feelings for San are genuine, but he also knows he’s hung up over Jisung. Jaemin grew up watching the way the adults in the house work, seeing Ten join Yuta and Hansol as if that space between them was always there, always for him. He knows there’s nothing wrong with having feelings for more than one person at a time, but he can’t ask that of them.

He can’t ask San to leave his pack to go with him. He can’t ask Jisung to accept there’s someone else when he has no idea how he’ll even react to Jaemin’s confession. He can’t ask himself to give up his family in Seoul for the pack in Andong, no matter how much he’s grown to love them.

San, how Jaemin did, waits for Jaemin to answer. San’s eyes are open and earnest, watching Jaemin as he chews on his bottom lip. They still have their fingers locked and they’re standing far closer than necessary, close enough that they can hear each other breath.

“I don’t know,” Jaemin confesses. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Jaemin takes a deep breath and fights down a wave of nausea, hearing his therapist’s voice in his head telling him to focus on his present. “I really, really like you, hyung. But I also feel the same way I did about Jisung.”

He half expects San to walk away. He certainly wouldn’t blame him. San’s grip on him loosens momentarily before it tightens again and he offers Jaemin a smile. It’s small, troubled, but he’s trying to comfort Jaemin.

“Let’s give it a week,” San proposes. “A week of no thinking of the future, let’s just enjoy each other in the meantime. Then, we’ll talk. We’ll figure it out together.”

That sounds lovely. Jaemin feels a weight lift off his shoulders and he smiles back, relieved. “I’d like that,” he says.

San’s smile widens. “Good. Oh, and get a good night’s sleep, because I’m taking you out tomorrow.”

Jaemin’s eyebrows touch his hairline. San is looking at him with so much affection, his grin is cheekier than before, and Jaemin hasn’t felt like this before. “Oh? Like, a date?”

“If you want,” San clarifies.

“Of course I want,” Jaemin rushes to assure him.

They continue to smile at each other in the dark before they snap out of it and resume their walk. Neither lets go of each other. They haven’t exited the treeline before they can hear the excited shouting from the house, everyone as loud as usual. Jaemin feels nostalgic.

Seonghwa greets them at the edge of the property. Jaemin was excited to see him until he noticed the troubled expression on his face, worsened only when Seonghwa’s eyes flicker down to their joined hands.

“Uh, there’s someone here for you,” he says to Jaemin.

The three approach the house. Jaemin can’t smell anything past San and Mingi, his nose clogged with their scents, and someone must have drawn the curtains on the windows because he can’t see inside the house. Seonghwa enters through the side door first, leading the way. Jaemin walks in after him, halfway hiding behind him, and San takes up the rear.

They round the corner to the living area and Jaemin, before he sees anything, knows exactly who’s there for him.

Taeyong sits on the couch next to Yeosang. He’s wearing the red hoodie he likes because it’s soft and his block bracelet dangles from his wrist with every move he makes. He’s clearly in a deep discussion with Yeosang because his movements increase in passion and his eyes are huge as he speaks. However, he ceases as soon as he spots Jaemin standing on the threshold and his face lights up in a smile.

“Jaemin!” he exclaims.

Jaemin doesn’t realise he’s moving until his nose is pressed into Taeyong’s shoulder and the vampire is holding him. Jaemin is shaking, overwhelmed and out of his mind. Taeyong rubs his back with one hand and holds him around the shoulders with other, littering kisses all over Jaemin’s crown, cheek and temples.

Taeyong always does that. There’s something so nurturing and maternal about him, the way he holds Jaemin every time he hugs him and how he kisses him, it’s how he imagines a mother does to her children. Regardless of what you may think about calling a boy maternal, Jaemin wouldn’t change it for the world.

The pack hasn’t exactly held back from physical affection, but there isn’t the trust that he has with his family. The pack will hug him, throw arms over his shoulders or ruffle his hair, but they’ve never hugged him like this.

“Hyung,” Jaemin gasps, finally able to get the word out of his mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“I came here to get you,” Taeyong tells him kindly, excited. “You can come home!”

Jaemin pulls back to look at Taeyong in the eyes. “What?”

Taeyong, perhaps not catching on to the surprise and apprehension in Jaemin’s voice, continues. “Yeah! I talked to Hongjoong two days ago and he told me you were ready. To be honest, we’d agreed we’d pick you up next week but I really couldn’t wait any longer. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Jaemin murmurs. However, his limbs are beginning to numb and he takes a step further back. He looks around, his eyes landing on Hongjoong, who’s sitting on the other side of the couch and looking sad. “Is that what today was about? A goodbye?”

“We didn’t mean for it to be like that, honestly,” Hongjoong rushes to explain, standing up. He makes as if to grab Jaemin but thinks better of it and his hands drop to his sides. “I did talk to Taeyong and we did agree he’d come in a week. Today was spontaneous. I had planned to tell you about it tomorrow or the day after that. Really, Jaemin, I didn’t know he’d come today.”

Taeyong looks confused. “Jaem, what’s wrong? Don’t you want to come home?”

“No. I mean, yes! Yes, I want to come home with you, hyung, but,” Jaemin doesn’t know how to say it. He’s surprised, confused and tearing up. “This is just a surprise, I -”

Then, as something occurs to him, Jaemin’s gaze swivels to the entrance where San still stands. “Is that why you said to give it a week? Did you know?”

San’s eyes widen almost comically. “No! Of course not, Jaemin, I had no idea.”

He’s sincere, Jaemin can tell. It makes him feel bad he previously thought San would lie to him and he apologizes quietly, relieved that San only nods in understanding. Taeyong makes a soft sound and Jaemin’s attention returns to him.

“Jaem, if you don’t want to come home yet, it can wait,” he says. Trust Taeyong to understand what goes through Jaemin’s head without him having to verbalize it, and he’s even wearing his bracelet. He doesn’t need to read his mind.

“You came all the way here,” Jaemin mumbles. He’d feel like shit if he made Taeyong go back home after coming to Andong,

“Doesn’t matter, what matters is you,” Taeyong says.

Just then, Yeosang clears his throat and offers, “You could always stay here with us. I mean, you’d have to share a bed with Jaemin but, as far as I know, vampires don’t sleep.”

Thankfully, this household has wolf shifters and not regular werewolves. Jaemin really doesn’t what to think about what would happen then.

Taeyong looks to Jaemin to gauge his reaction. Jaemin meets his eyes, isn’t sure what Taeyong sees in them, but the vampire nods nonetheless, and accepts the invitation. “Alright, thank you. And my apologies for showing up without prior notice.”

“I’m surprised you did,” Jaemin jokes. “You were always the one with best manners.”

Taeyong shrugs, smiling at him. “I missed you too much, I guess.”

Mingi claps his hand and smiles gummily. “Well, now that that’s settled. I’m tired and need to sleep at least ten hours.”

Taeyong’s already been introduced to the rest of the pack – save for San, who bows and shakes Taeyong’s hand afterward – so Jaemin shows him upstairs to his room. Taeyong tells him that, as much as he loves him, Jaemin stinks currently. Jaemin leaves for the bathroom with a smile, and when he returns after his shower, he finds Taeyong already switched to borrowed sweatpants and sat atop the covers of Jaemin’s bed.

It’s true that vampires don’t need sleep, but Taeyong still makes room for Jaemin to lie down, his arm making a pillow for the wolf. Vampires don’t sweat, either, and realistically there’s no reason for them to shower, yet Taeyong smells like soap and baby powder – Taeyong really likes the smell of baby powder.

Jaemin closes his eyes and sighs. He hasn’t been cuddled in months and Taeyong doesn’t just smell good, his hoodie is also soft and his presence is comforting. Jaemin basks in the sensation for a few minutes, breathing slowly. Eventually, he opens his eyes again. He has too many questions swirling around his head and he won’t sleep until he has answers.

“Hyung, can I ask you a few things?” Jaemin asks. Taeyong makes a sound of consent and Jaemin continues, “How come you came alone?”

“You know Doie and I go to the city at night, right? Well, we were passing by a vet store and there was an ad for the cutest little puppies on the front and I thought of you. And it was like I had to come see you, so I told Doyoung I’d see him later, took our car and drove here.”

Jaemin gapes. “You drove all the way here because you saw puppies?”

“Well, yeah.”

“What did Doyoung hyung say?”

Taeyong scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “I didn’t really tell him where I was going. He called when I was halfway out of Seoul and told me to stop hiding, so I told him I had errands to run and that I’d be back tomorrow at the latest. I should probably call him to say it’s gonna be longer than that.”

Jaemin laughs and shakes his head unbelievingly. “He’s gonna throw a fit.”

“Maybe, until I tell him that you’re taller and then he’ll really blow a fuse.”

Jaemin’s smile falters. Doyoung was one of the most adamant that Jaemin left for Andong. Taeyong must sense his shift in mood and he sighs, more for the theatrical of it than anything. “He misses you, too. Everyone does. Chenle cried two days after you were gone when he realises it was for real.”

That doesn’t make Jaemin feel any better and Taeyong scrambles for something to say. “Uh, Chenle and Xuxi are dating now, isn’t that exciting? Jisung gloated for two weeks, saying he knew it.”

“Literally everyone saw it coming,” Jaemin grumbles.

Taeyong laughs nervously. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Jaemin sighs and shuts his eyes. “We should go back tomorrow.”

“What about your friend? San?”

Jaemin isn’t surprised Taeyong knows about that. They must have been more obvious than he thought. “There’s no way that’ll work out anyway so it’s better if I leave now.”

“Don’t you think you should discuss that with him?”

Three months ago, Jaemin would have scoffed. But now, he knows he can’t make this sort of decision by himself. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow morning. I should sleep now, it’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, alright. Good night, Jaemin.”

~

Jaemin really does talk to San the next morning. San readily kicks Wooyoung out of their shared room when Jaemin knocks on their door and asks to talk to him – Wooyoung leaves with a shit eating grin and a promise to eavesdrop from Mingi’s room next door. Jaemin would have loved to tell him there won’t be anything funny about this conversation but figures that wouldn’t be very polite.

San sits up in bed and looks at Jaemin expectantly. His orange t-shirt is wrinkled in parts and is askew on his frame, looking entirely boyish and sweet. Jaemin almost throws the whole convo away and asks San to take him on that date instead.

“I asked Taeyong hyung to take me home today,” Jaemin blurts out.

The smile on San’s face wipes off immediately. Jaemin is left staring at his face as it crumbles and he feels like crying. San opens his mouth as if to say something, but after a few seconds he closes it again.

“It’s just,” Jaemin fumbles with his hands, “I think it’s best for everyone involved. I mean, we wouldn’t have lasted more than a week, right? And I think it would have been too painful for both of us if I left later.”

“And you decided all that on your own?” Even if San didn’t snap at him, his voice left no room for doubt that he was angry. “Don’t you think I should have a say in what would make me upset?”

Jaemin hangs his head. “Sorry.”

San sighs and stands up, taking the three short little steps to face Jaemin. “If you want to go home, then go. I’m not going to stop you. But don’t lie to yourself and say you’re doing it for me when we both know it’s for your own benefit.”

“Sorry,” Jaemin says again.

“Don’t apologize to me,” San shakes his head. “I’m not mad at you. I just want to know the real reason you’re so eager to get away from me.”

“It’s not like that,” Jaemin insists. “I’m scared. I really like you, hyung, but my feelings for Jisung are still the same. And I don’t see a way we could be together, anyway, because I’m leaving soon and we’ll be in completely different cities.”

San stops him. “Breath, will you?” Once he’s satisfied with Jaemin’s breathing rate, he continues. “I understand that you’re worried. And I understand why, I’ve thought the same thing. I’ve been thinking the same thing almost since you got here, trust me. That’s why I waited until now, because I figured it’d be easier if we had a week or two of fun before you left than if we tried for something longer and we ended up hurting even more.”

Jaemin blinks at him. San heaves a sigh and ruffles his hair in nervousness before he says, “I thought a week of taking you to town would be enough for both of us.”

“Taking me to town?” Jaemin echoes.

“That sounded bad, didn’t it? I meant dates in town,” San clarifies, a hint of a smile on his face.

~

San keeps to his promise and takes him on a date that very same day. Taeyong is delighted to hear Jaemin has decided to stay the final week and leaves that evening, promising he won’t say a word to anyone about his whereabouts. Doyoung might be the only one capable of knowing the truth but he isn’t worried, telling Jaemin no one will know anything if Jaemin doesn’t want to.

There’s a restaurant in town that Jaemin liked the most. It’s a quaint little place that sells barbecue and smoked meats, the tables sturdy and the chairs a bit creaky when you sit down. Jaemin thinks the place feels domestic and that’s why he likes it so much.

They order their meals quickly, both knowing what they want with a simple glance at the menu. However, the second the waiter leaves their side, Jaemin feels awkward. This is his first date in a long while and he doesn’t know how to act, regardless it is San and not a stranger. Moreover, the fact their time is counted hangs heavily over his head and it makes him more self-conscious than he normally is.

Thankfully, San doesn’t let him dwell on his thoughts too much and starts to blabber nonsense until Jaemin cuts him off with a laugh. San smiles at Jaemin’s flabbergasted expression and says, “So he’s alive. I thought you were regretting coming here.”

In spite of the easy humour, there’s vulnerability in his voice that doesn’t slip by Jaemin. Jaemin immediately rushes to say, “That’s not it, I swear! I just… I don’t know what to do. I haven’t been on a date in a really long time.”

“Well, there isn’t an exact science to it, is there?” San asks. “The purpose of a first date is to get to know each other, but we’ve been friends for months, so there’s really no excuse for you to feel so awkward around me.”

Jaemin hangs his head, blushing. San kicks him lightly under the table, mindful of his boots and Jaemin’s light-washed jeans, and suggests, “How about a round of twenty questions? Let’s ask things we don’t know about the other.”

That sounds like a splendid idea. Jaemin agrees easily and they play while they wait for their meals, asking increasingly more random questions until neither knows very well how to answer them. In the end, a question about San’s third grade teacher launches him into an anecdote from his childhood and conversation flows easily from there, how it’s supposed to be.

When they go home afterwards, everyone pretends not to have been waiting for them in the living room. At the very least, they were playing Monopoly so they had an excuse to be sitting around in the living room. Jaemin knows that, had this happened in Seoul, the boys would have just sat at the front entrance hall with their chins on their hands.

Mingi, perhaps the least obvious of all, looks up first from the board with a smile and says, seemingly genuinely surprised, “You’re back!”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong, however, don’t know the meaning of stealth and ask, rather obviously, “How was your date? Did you have fun?” to which Jongho groans and mutters something that sounds remarkably like, “Way to go, grandpas.”

Normally, Jaemin would feel mortified to have that asked so directly about his date, but San’ couldn’t smother his smile even if he tried and Jaemin himself feels so happy he could burst, so he doesn’t mind the questioning.

“It was… nice.” Even if the words weren’t spectacular, the stupid smile playing on Jaemin’s face is enough to let everyone know how he feels. Wooyoung does a ridiculous happy dance when he hears that and Yunho gives them two thumbs up with a wide smile. All around congrats ring through the room and Jaemin tries to kill a blush crawling up his neck, unsuccessful. “Shut up,” he grumbles. “Who’s losing?”

“Yeosang is,” Jongho tells him, making room for Jaemin to sit next to him on the couch.

~

The last day of his stay, Jaemin wakes up to the smell of bacon cooking in the kitchen and the sound of Jongho screaming to the top of his lungs.

Upon further inspection, Jaemin deduces he isn’t screaming, he’s singing. From the other end of the hall, Mingi shouts at him to shut the hell up. Jaemin burrows further under the covers and hits something warm. That something groans in protest and a hand slaps lightly at whatever it can reach of Jaemin, which so happens to be his neck.

“Stop hitting me,” Jaemin grumbles.

“Stop moving around,” San shoots back.

Jaemin, asleep as he is, has trouble remembering why San would be in his bed. A simple glance under the covers tells him they’re both fully dressed, so it wasn’t as if they did anything indecent the night before.

“Why are you in my bed?” Jaemin asks. He figures it’s best if he outright asks, rather than try to imagine the possibilities and give himself a heart attack.

San groans once more, this time in annoyance, and he says, “Wooyoung kicked me out of the room so Yunho could stay over. I planned on going to Jongho but his door was locked and his ‘no hyungs’ allowed sign was hung.”

“Can you imagine if we did that at my place?” Jaemin scoffs. “Johnny would barge in just for the fun of it.”

San doesn’t answer that. Jaemin, more awake now than he was a minute ago – courtesy of his heart going haywire at the thought of being _intimate_ with San – watches San as he struggles to go back to sleep and fails. Finally, San’s eyes fly open and he glares at Jaemin, who responds with a smile. “What time is it, anyway?” San asks.

“Don’t know, but breakfast’s being cooked and Jongho is awake so it can’t be that early.”

The two stare at each other for a minute. The sunlight that filters through the window reflects on San’s skin and makes him glow, and wow, Jaemin didn’t know he had it in him to be so corny. San, on his end, seems equally fascinated by Jaemin.

“Should we go downstairs?” Jaemin hates himself for breaking the mood but he really can’t handle it. Thankfully, San doesn’t hold it against him and agrees easily.

They aren’t the only ones that decided there was no use in fighting it. Mingi, Yunho and Wooyoung are all stepping out as well and none looks awake, at least not strictly speaking. Their group makes the trip to the kitchen, not quite walking but shambling, San holding onto Jaemin’s arm and sleeping on his shoulder.

In the breakfast bar, the rest are already gathered. Yeosang is drinking from his favourite mug with his hair mussed up and his eyes half shut, and the complete opposite of him, Jongho is wolfing down his breakfast with heartfelt intent as he chatters animatedly with Hongjoong. Seonghwa is neither here nor there, calmly sipping what looks like orange juice while browsing through news portals on his phone.

Hongjoong’s eyes light up when he sees them and he greets them with enthusiasm, saying, “You’re up early!”

The group halts in their steps. Jaemin blinks in surprise, his free arm halfway to the mugs cabinet to take five out, and Mingi’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not even 6 am yet.” Yeosang’s words are enough to douse a bucket of cold water over them. Immediately, Wooyoung makes to turn around and go back upstairs but Hongjoong cries out a, “Wait!” that has them all halting. “I’m glad you’re awake, I had something I wanted to say.”

“Since Jaemin is leaving today, I thought it’d be nice to eat together and then, maybe, go for a walk?”

Well, no one could say no to that. And so, they all squeeze around the breakfast bar, some more begrudgingly than the others, and begin to eat their breakfast. As usual, Mingi dumps extra everything on Jaemin’s plate and San sits with his thigh pressed to his.

Afterwards, Hongjoong rushes them to change into something comfortable and to meet in the foyer in ten minutes. Jaemin puts on his sweatpants dazedly, unaware of San watching him carefully.

“Are you alright?” San asks after a while.

Jaemin snaps out of his trance and nods shakily. “Yeah, fine, totally. I just. Wow, I can’t believe this is it.”

He really can’t. Before, he couldn’t wait to get out of here but now… now, he kind of wants to stay. Just a little while longer. He says so to San and is met with a sad smile.

“Yeah, I wish you could stay, too,” San admits, taking a step closer to him. “But you should go home. See your family, your friends, maybe confess to Jisung for once and for all after you beg for his forgiveness.” Jaemin chuckles dryly at the remark and San grins wryly. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere. You can always come back and visit.”

“That’s good to know,” Jaemin tries to smile. “But it won’t be the same.”

“No. It’ll just be how it’s supposed to be.”

Jaemin doesn’t know what to say to that. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to. San kisses him, soundly, sweetly, and then leaves the room.

When they meet downstairs, San still smiles in his direction and talks to him as if nothing has happened, but his intentions earlier were loud and clear. That was his way of saying they were okay, he was okay, Jaemin was okay, and also, goodbye.

Jongho insists on being Jaemin’s partner for their run today and none dares go against him. It feels good to run, to run as fast as his legs will carry him, and it’s even better to do so with the pack around him. Jongho rubs against him every once in a while and Jaemin glimpses Seonghwa and Yeosang trying to outrun each other, but everything else is a blur to him from how fast he is going.

They arrive at the same clearing as a week earlier. This time, they don’t shift back to humans and instead stay in their wolf forms, piling one on top of the other and rolling around the grassy hills until dirt and leaves cover their furs. Jaemin lies down on his tummy and rests his head on his front paws, watching an army of ants carrying seeds under his nose.

Something lands on his back. Jaemin doesn’t need to look to know it’s Yunho, the older boy extremely cuddly in his wolf form. It doesn’t take long for Yunho to fall asleep on him and Jaemin does his best not to startle him, dozing off as well after a while.

When he comes to, Hongjoong is sitting next to him. Hongjoong’s wolf form is perhaps the most intimidating one Jaemin has seen, but it’s also the one that channels the most security. His fur, chocolate brown, ruffles in the wind. He’s looking ahead, his eyes trained on his pack-mates across the clearing, some asleep and others playing. He’s also guarding Jaemin and Yunho beside him.

It feels Jaemin with an unknown sentiment. He can’t put a name to it, but promises to himself he won’t forget it once he’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you follow me on twt you probably already know but my mental health took a dive for hell the last month so i won't be too active on twt for a while, if anyone wants to talk you can find me on cc or kkt (that's the same username as here) 
> 
> i promise i read and love all your comments, if i don't reply it's probably because I don't know how to or because I don't have the energy but i do appreciate every single one of you


	5. shooting star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at last, jaemin's home. there's a lot of crying in this one, but like i promised, everything works out
> 
> chap title from shooting star by newkidd ❤️

Jaemin hasn’t taken three steps inside the house before someone rushes up to him and squeezes the life out of him. He thought it would be Renjun or Donghyuck – he kept fantasising about it the entire ride home - but he’s surprised to find upon further inspection that it’s actually Chenle. His wings give him away, dropping feathers on the way like they do when he’s upset.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Chenle rants, wetting Jaemin’s travel hoodie with his tears. “I was horrible to you, I can’t believe I said all that shit, I’m so sorry.”

Stunned, Jaemin can only pat his back in what he hopes is a soothing manner. He certainly wasn’t expecting anyone to cry on him as soon as he arrived (Actually, he would have expected it from Jeno, probably). His hands involuntarily dump his suitcases on the ground and, now free, goes up to hold Chenle properly. Regardless of how stilted their last interactions were, Chenle is still Chenle, he still fits in Jaemin’s arms the way he did and his hair still tickles Jaemin’s nose when he hugs him.

Chenle pulls away a minute later, sniffing as he wipes his eyes embarrassedly. Jaemin keeps a hand on his shoulder and waits for Chenle to look at him to say, “I missed you, too.” Chenle smiles and nods, stepping back.

That’s when Jaemin can get a good look at the house. They have decorated the entrance hall with a large banner – it’s a surprise Jaemin didn’t see it before – that reads “Welcome Home,” with more exclamation marks than necessary and enough glitter to give anyone a strobe.

Everyone gathered underneath the banner. His friends seem to be barely restraining themselves from jumping up and down, or from doing something like what Chenle just did. Donghyuck is visibly vibrating in excitement, his grin large and joyous. Jaemin rearranges his hoodie and offers a shy grin, waving, “Hey.”

It seems that was all they were waiting for. Two dozens of bodies surround Jaemin almost immediately. They are all reaching for a different body part, anything they can get their hands on, and Jaemin… well; he certainly wasn’t expecting such a reaction. Directly under his right arm is Jisung, clinging to his midriff, and his left arm is unceremoniously wrapped around Yangyang’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Johnny says above him. He’s hovering behind Jaemin, chest to back, but he doesn’t dare touch the boy. He was a dick to Jaemin before he left, and didn’t have the courage to apologize or reach out. Now, he doesn’t know if Jaemin will even want to speak to him at all.

All around the room ring apologies. It seems like Chenle’s abrupt greeting triggered a chain reaction, and one after the other they spill their guts, stumbling over each other to lay out their regrets. However, Jaemin isn’t having any of it.

“Stop, stop!” Jaemin didn’t want to resort to shouting, but he had to do so when his initial words went largely unheard. A resolute silence falls over the room and they move back to give Jaemin more room. Jaemin fiddles with his hoodie’s sleeves and looks down at his shoes, uncomfortable under everyone’s stares and undivided attention. “I don’t want your apologies. Just! Listen, will you? It’s been months, okay. It’s been months since I left and I’ve had time to think. You were right - I needed to go. I needed to stay with the pack and I’m thankful for the time I spent there, it helped a lot.”

“But we were awful to you,” Jaehyun says weakly. Meek agreements sound.

Jaemin doesn’t deny it. “Yeah, you were. I’m not gonna lie to you and say otherwise just to spare your feelings. But good came out of it in the end and I’m happy. I’d never… I’d never experienced pack life before. My birth pack treated me like shit since I was old enough to walk and after that – this is a family, but it isn’t a pack. It’s different.

“I loved it in Andong. I… honestly, I almost didn’t want to return.” He knew that would come off harsh, but it was the truth. He spent the night before debating with himself if returning to the house was truly the best thing for him. “I finally had a pack, a real one, and the last time I was here, I had been alienated from everyone I love because of something that I couldn’t control.”

Jaemin dares to lift his eyes and look at his family. He knew he’d see hurt gazes but it still sends a shiver straight to his heart. Taeyong, however, offers him an encouraging grin and it eases him. He shoulders on. “But I knew I would never forgive myself if I stayed. Not only because I hadn’t even said goodbye, but because this is… it's where I belong. Just like S- they belong in Andong.”

The truth? Jaemin almost spilled San’s name at the last second. He was able to stifle the word before it left his mouth, but he isn’t mistaken when he thinks Doyoung looks at him oddly after he speaks.

“So, yeah. I was mad enough to stay away but then I realised I love you too much to do that. Is that barbecue I smell?”

Having said that, Jaemin abandons the bags by the door and merrily makes his way to the kitchen. As he hoped, the others catch on to his meaning and follow him.

His nose wasn’t lying. Jaemin finds a fest in the dining table, all of his favourite dishes laid out in his honour. There’s even cake! Jaemin represses the urge to eat that first and instead goes for the platter of meat in the middle. He takes his usual seat and grabs his chopsticks eagerly but doesn’t dig in until everyone has sat as well.

“This all looks great, hyungs, who made it?” he asks. Although the air in the dining room is a bit awkward, he tries to make the best of it. Jaemin really, really wants to avoid confrontations or heart to hearts. He doesn’t need that right now, he needs a normal dinner with his friends.

Kun clears his throat lightly and says, “It was a team effort. Johnny and I made the potatoes at your elbow.”

Slowly, everyone chips in what their tasks were. Finally, only Taeil remains. At Jaemin’s expectant gaze, the human smiles warmly and says, “I supervised, of course.”

Jaemin laughs. He’d missed Taeil. “Well, then, I’m sure everything is delicious, if Taeil hyung supervised.”

“Of course it is, as usual,” Taeil shoots back easily.

Jaemin is the first to eat, and everyone follows suit. It starts out stilted, conversation dead as they chew on their food and sip on their drinks, until Jaemin feels a nose drag up his nape and Yukhei’s voice, startling close to his ear, says, “What’s that I smell? Or should I ask, who?”

Even the sound of cutlery scraping against the plates stops. Jaemin freezes mid-bite, not sure how or if to explain why he reeks of San. Admittedly, they had a second goodbye before Jaemin was set to leave for the train station. More than a goodbye. Goosebumps break across his skin at the memory of San’s lips. He opens his mouth to say something and halts beforehand, thinking. “What smell?”

“Pine trees,” Yukhei clarifies. Jaemin holds back a smile, to which Yukhei whines, “What?”

“It’s Mingi hyung. I’m wearing his t-shirt because mine got a coffee stain before I left and all my other shirts were already packed,” Jaemin explains. It’s easier to talk about Mingi getting rowdy during breakfast and making them spill their coffees all over themselves than to say he had a heated make-out session with San before walking out the door. “It was his fault and he felt guilty so he gave me his shirt to wear,” Jaemin shrugs.

He thinks Yukhei is staring a hole through the side of his head but doesn’t want to turn around to check. Instead, he tries to come up with a topic before he directs his attention to Doyoung and asks, “Hyung, did Taeyong ever tell you why he disappeared a week ago?”

Doyoung sighs dramatically. “Yes. He told me all about his little road trip to Andong. Little bastard scared the crap out of me when he vanished. And then he wouldn’t tell me anything about his adventure. ”

Nonplussed, Taeyong sips from his wine glass and says, “I liked their house. It had a nice living room. And I liked talking to Yeosang, he’s a smart kid, we should invite them over soon.” He says so nonchalantly, as if it were a simple idea. Murmurs of consent ring around the table, and when their eyes meet, Jaemin smiles at Taeyong and hopes it conveys his gratitude.

And, judging from the little twinkle in Taeyong’s eyes as he downs his B+, he gets it.

After dinner, they all gather in the lounge and they subject Jaemin to the third degree, courtesy of Yuta, Hansol, Johnny and Kun. There’s a fire cackling on the hearth, the curtains are drawn back to reveal the newly-installed twinkling lights on the porch – courtesy of a bout of insomnia in Renjun and Chenle – and they put snacks on the centre table. It doesn’t take long before they’ve demolished half of it, but Jaemin isn’t complaining.

“How was the food there?” Kun asks, “Did you eat well? I was worried you wouldn’t like their food or that you would lose too much weight but you look really healthy.” He’s very obviously eyeing the recent muscles on Jaemin’s arms and the tight fit of his jeans around his thighs, and Jaemin nearly preens at the praise.

“The food was good, hyung,” Jaemin says. He thinks back to all the midnight snacks he and Jongho denied ever eating the next morning and smiles. “Seonghwa hyung’s a great cook and they let me cook breakfast on Sundays.”

“Were they nice to you? They better have been,” Yuta grumbles. He’s sulked most of the night, very clearly holding back from smothering Jaemin because he knows he wouldn’t appreciate it.

“You _met_ them,” Jaemin reminds him, “but, yes. They were nice, hyung. Wooyoung made me promise I’d go back to visit at least twice a year or he’d come here instead. San then warned me I don’t want that to happen. I believe him.”

“What about the… the training?” Hansol’s awkward as he asks. The room falls silent. “They weren’t too tough on you, were they?”

Jaemin’s eyebrow rises. He bites back a snide comment threatening to slip out and says instead, “Hongjoong hyung knew how far to go. I was never in any real danger.” Regardless of how that may sound or what kind of impression it might leave on them, Jaemin doesn’t offer any more information. Let them wonder if they want – Jaemin’s not vengeful, but he is petty. “Yunho pretended to be there for my sake but I know he just wanted to get out of the house.”

Johnny fumbles for a few minutes. While he thinks of something to say, the others chit chat. Jaemin entertains Chenle’s and Dejun’s more innocent questions (Was the forest there as cool as theirs is? Did Jaemin get to sight see in Andong? Does he think it would be fun to road trip there soon?) and wrestles Jeno for the last chicken strip on the snacks bar, until Johnny finally finds the words he needs.

“Jaemin-ah,” Johnny calls out to him, “I would like to say something.” Once more, silence ensues. Jaemin returns to his seat and looks at him expectantly.

“First, I want to apologize, like, _really_ apologize for my behaviour. I know you said you don’t want to hear it but this isn’t something I can ignore. I was horrible to you and you didn’t deserve that. I’m really, really sorry, Jaemin.

“And second, I wanted you to know that I’m proud of you.” Jaemin snaps to attention at that. He’d listened to Johnny’s apologies and appreciated it, but didn’t outwardly show any signs of accepting; however, hearing Johnny says he’s proud of him… that does it. “I can see how much you’ve grown in the last few months. You’re not – you don’t seem as retracted anymore. And your face’s gained more weight. I didn’t realise how skinny you were before until I saw you today.”

Jaemin’s surprised to hear that. At the beginning of his stay, Mingi had wrapped a hand around Jaemin’s forearm, intent on tugging him along to play in the living room, and he’d frowned worriedly as his fingers nearly touched. He’d tried to hide it behind a smile, but Jaemin had noticed. And then, the very next meal, Mingi started shovelling food in his plate. He didn’t think anyone else had noticed, though.

“I’m, uh,” Jaemin stammers. “Thank you, hyung.” He swallows around a lump in his throat and supresses the sudden urge to cry. “It means a lot to hear that.”

Johnny nods. He looks like he wants to say something else and doesn’t. Jaehyun materializes next to Jaemin and lays a hand on his nape, the weight heavy and comforting. “I don’t want to steal John’s thunder but, ditto. We love you a lot, kid.”

“I love you all, too,” Jaemin sniffs. “It’s nice to be home.”

There’s something floating in everyone’s head, but none dares to say it. Jaemin trains his eyes on the carpet, licks his lips and does his best to keep his knees from bouncing up and down. The business card in his pocket seems to be burning a hole through his jeans, apparently reminding him he is yet to discuss his therapy with them. He isn’t entirely sure he even wants to. Realistically, he could always take the bus to his sessions by himself.

Finally, Yangyang says what they’re all thinking. “Did you really mean it? What you said earlier?” Dejun’s scandalized eyes go right over his head, just as he ignores Kunhang’s hand clamping down on his thigh. Yangyang’s never seemed to care about impressions.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. Yangyang is too relentless sometimes. “Yeah, I meant it.”

An awkward silence ensues. Jaemin picks at his nails and avoids eye contact, wishing desperately for something - anything – to get the attention off him. Jaehyun’s still petting him, but his hand had stilled for a second.

Bless his heart, Jungwoo opens his mouth and says, “So, who wants dessert?”

~

Later that evening, Jaemin unpacks while telling his friends the full story. He spared the adults some details, mostly because he didn’t want to talk about it at the moment, but he knows he won’t go too long without telling these four. Renjun’s side of the room is the same as always, with his sketchbooks taking up half of his bed and a makeup bag full of glitter on the windowsill above, his clothes spilling out of his side of the closet because he can’t be bothered to pick them up. Meanwhile, Jaemin’s side is untouched. Someone must have recently remade his bed, the nightstand is clear and his side of the closet is neat and tidy, if only because he hasn’t been making use of it in months.

“So, who’s San?” Mark asks. He’s perched on Jaemin’s bed atop fresh sheets, playing catch by himself with a balled-up pair of socks. “You seemed freaked out.”

Jaemin whines, mostly for show. He hasn’t made much progress with the whole unpacking deal yet and throwing his underwear at Donghyuck’s head when he isn’t looking has proven to be ten times more entertaining. Donghyuck chucks the Spider-Man briefs back at him and threatens to put creepy crawlers under his pillow if he keeps it up.

“Don’t avoid the question – will you stop that?” Donghyuck huffs as he hits him again, this time in the face. “Who’s San?”

“He’s a friend,” Jaemin shrugs. However, they know him too well and hear the shy tone of his voice. On cue, all four _ooh_ like a bunch of children. “Shut up.”

“If you’re worried about anyone else overhearing, we placed a blocker under the door after you left,” Jeno offers, “we wanted someplace to talk crap without anyone hearing.”

Jaemin’s impressed, he’s not going to lie. “Okay, well. I didn’t lie when I said he’s a friend, because he is. We just… it wouldn’t have worked out.”

“But you liked him,” Renjun prompts him. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, I did. I still do. He’s sweet and he made me laugh. And he was hot, too, I mean,” Jaemin smirks, opens his mouth to say something unbelievably inappropriate, and is rudely interrupted by Jeno and Donghyuck screaming incoherently. He howls with laughter instead, falling next to Mark on his bed.

“Can’t believe you left for months and came back with an almost boyfriend,” Renjun grumbles.

“I had to catch up to you guys, somehow,” Jaemin smiles, standing up again. Mark’s still playing with his socks. “I mean, I’m surrounded by couples every day, a guy gets lonely.”

Mark drops the socks on his lap. Instead of picking them up again, he leans back on the bed, holds himself up with his hands, and asks him, rather seriously, “What about Jisung?”

Jaemin ponders how to answer that. “I still like him, too. More than like him, actually. That hasn’t changed. San told me to apologize to him and to confess, but I don’t know about the last part.”

“So, San knew?” Jeno asks. “And he was okay with it?”

“Yeah. We didn’t really, uh - we weren’t actually together. Like I said, we were friends.” Jaemin hesitates before telling them about his last week with the pack, about the evening he and San confessed to each other, and the seven dates they went on before Jaemin had to leave. Needless to say, he keeps certain things to himself.

“Sounds like you had fun,” Donghyuck says. “I’m glad. I missed you.”

Jaemin smiles. “I missed you too, Hyuck. All of you,” he adds. Renjun sniffs and wipes his eyes hastily, then Jeno is tearing up as well and soon eight arms surround Jaemin, suffocating him in a bear hug. “Okay, okay, enough. I seriously need to unpack now.”

Mark offers to help him finish. They work together and end in record time, then Jaemin collapses on his bed and groans in satisfaction. “I missed you the most, baby,” he mumbles into the bed sheets.

“Should we leave you two alone?” Renjun deadpans. He makes a disgusted sound when Jaemin nods and makes a show of making out with his pillow, rudely interrupted by Donghyuck throwing himself on his back.

“Did anything interesting happen while I was gone?” Jaemin asks. It comes out muffled by the pillows and the heavy weight of a nearly-20-years-old witch pressing him down.

Mark hums, taking a seat by Jaemin’s head. His hand comes down, pets Donghyuck’s hair for a few seconds before it moves on to Jaemin’s nape. Jaemin will deny purring like a cat. “Chenle and Xuxi got together, as you may have noticed.”

“You mean to tell me that the hand holding, the heart eyes and the disgusting, saccharine tones of voice weren’t just friendship at its finest?” Donghyuck wiggles, perhaps uncomfortable, and the two shift until they’re in a less painful position. Jaemin doesn’t care that he’s being spooned by Donghyuck; he’s missed him too much.

“Uh, there’s something you should probably now.” Jaemin’s ears perk up at the seriousness in Renjun’s voice. Donghyuck, perhaps knowing what’s coming next, buries his face in Jaemin’s shoulder and tightens his grip around his midriff, a silent act of solidarity. “I don’t know how much you’re gonna like it.”

“You really know how to catch my attention,” Jaemin grumbles. He’s lying on his side, which means he seeing everything tilted, and the expression on Renjun’s face is hard to discern.

Renjun shares a look with Mark and Jeno. He sighs, crosses his arms together across his chest, and says, “The day you left, in the morning… Hansol and Yuta asked Ten to marry them.”

Jaemin blinks. “I don’t think that’s legally possible.”

“It isn’t.” “We checked.” Mark and Donghyuck’s synchronicity would be eerie if he weren’t used to it.

“They’re not actually getting married,” Renjun elaborates. “It’s more like they’ll be doing a binding… ritual… thing. I don’t know - Jaehyun’s the one that knows how that thing works.”

Jaemin hums. Then the meaning of Renjun’s words, and ultimately what he’s trying to tell him, slams into him full force and he bolts upright in bed, his eyes wide. Donghyuck makes a choked off sound as he hits his head on the wall.

“Wait, they got engaged the _morning_ I left?” he demands.

“Before you left, actually,” Donghyuck pipes up. He’s migrated to a more comfortable position, his head resting on Mark’s shoulder now. “Ten was wearing the ring when you guys left.”

Jaemin sees red for a second. Hongjoong’s voice travels to him from miles away in Andong, soothing tone wrapped around the warning of keeping it cool, take a deep breath. Jaemin closes his eyes, breathes harshly through his nose until he feels the anger and the betrayal simmer down, counts backwards from ten, and focuses on loosening the tension in his jaw.

“That’s,” Jaemin struggles to find an accurate word.

“Bullshit?”

“Nice?”

“Interesting?”

“Unexpected?”

He considers all the options given to him and says, “All of them, somehow. Although the balance is tipped closer to the bullshit end of the spectrum.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Renjun grumbles. He’s spinning a fidget spinner – probably Jeno’s – and staring intently at Jaemin, as if waiting to see if Jaemin is gonna lose it or not. “I was pissed off when I saw the ring.”

“How did the others take it?” Jaemin isn’t one to fake his feelings to fit everyone else’s, but he doesn’t want to be the only one mad about the engagement.

Jeno weighs his words before answering. “There were mixed reactions. The general consensus is that we’re happy for them but they should have chosen a better time to do it. When hyungs came back, they got kinda mad we were judging their timing but I think they got it.”

“Huh,” Jaemin huffs. He falls back into bed, and soon Renjun is crawling up to him and lying down in the space between him and the wall. Jeno finds a spot between Donghyuck and Jaemin, so they’re all on the same bed. “Okay, well. I guess I’m happy for them, too.” He means it, but he can’t shake the feeling of it all being too convenient. “I just wish they would have told me.”

“They’ll probably break the news to you tomorrow,” Mark says. “I don’t think they’d risk waiting longer than that, in case you didn’t take it too well.”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow in his direction. Mark rolls his eyes and waves his hands as if to say _you know what I mean._

“Do you know when they plan on doing it?” Jaemin asks. Although, he has a feeling he already knows the answer to that particular question. “The ritual, I mean.”

“All I know is that they were waiting for you to come home,” Donghyuck shrugs.

“Perfect,” Jaemin sighs. “Absolutely perfect.”

~

The next morning is nice. Jaemin wakes up to his alarm clock blaring agonizing hell, something he’d forgotten it did until this moment. Renjun, still safely cocooned in his bed, burrows further into his blankets and wails for Jaemin to make it stop.

“I should have thrown that thing out when I had the chance,” Jaemin can hear Renjun mumble.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jaemin shoots back. The thing might be deafening and annoying but it has emotional significance to him.

Renjun says something that might not be entirely polite before drifting back to sleep. Jaemin thinks about doing the same, but his stomach grumbles and he decides food is a more pressing matter than sleep at the time. Without bothering to change into proper clothes, he pulls a hoodie over his bare chest and makes his way downstairs, shivering at the cold press of the tiles.

The kitchen isn’t empty, as he hoped it would be. It’s still early, so most of the boys are still sleeping, but Taeil and Kun are having breakfast together by the small corner table. The breakfast itself isn’t much – toast, melted cheese and coffee – but the sight is familiar and, damn it, it makes him tear up again.

“Good morning,” Jaemin says softly. He pads further inside, taking a mug from the drying rack by the sink and pouring enough coffee in it to give a human a heart attack. “Mind if I join you?”

Kun springs from his seat in a heartbeat, ushering Jaemin to sit down. “Of course not! Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat. We would have saved something from our breakfast but we didn’t think anyone else would be awake.”

“Oh, no, hyung, that’s okay,” Jaemin tries to protest, but finds his mouth suddenly stuffed full of toast. Taeil smiles at him from the other end of the table, the culprit.

“Let Kun cook something for you, alright?” Taeil says. “I can practically hear your stomach growling.”

“I can,” Kun's voice drifts back to him. He’s heating up the pan on the stove while he prepares what Jaemin can only guess is pancake batter. “Did you sleep well?”

Jaemin gulps the last of the toast, blushing. “Yeah, I did. Seriously, you don’t have to do all that, I can make something for myself,” he says.

“Nonsense,” Kun waves him off. “I had to start breakfast soon anyway, you know how the others are.”

He has a point, there. Jaemin is aware of how mornings can go in the house and he would rather have an early start on breakfast before the kitchen is crowded and he might risk losing a limb in a fight for the syrup.

Taeil takes a sip from his coffee before he speaks again. “So, how are you feeling? Happy to be home?”

“Yeah.” Jaemin drinks from his coffee too and gasps as he burns his tongue. “Oh, shit, that’s hot!”

Kun laughs from the stove. Taeil reminds him to watch his language through his laughter, and then passes him a glass of water to soothe his tongue. Jaemin’s a little embarrassed as he wipes the excess coffee from his chin, and Taeil notices right away, patting his head and offering him another napkin.

“Eat up,” Kun says as he places a plate in front of him. Most people’s first pancake comes out wrong, but Kun’s is golden, fluffy and thick enough. Jaemin’s mouth waters instantly and he groans in gratitude. Kun laughs, airy and a bit squeaky, and adds, “There are more coming your way so enjoy.”

“I love you, hyung,” Jaemin says sincerely. Whether Kun understood him or not is another thing, because Jaemin had a mouth full of pancakes by then.

Things are easy. Everyone greets Jaemin as they used to and no one looks at him with anything other than the usual love in their eyes. Jaemin still feels a little out of depth and stumbles over his interactions because he isn’t sure where the limits lie anymore, but towards the end of the day, everything is back to normal.

Jungwoo requests his presence in his room after lunch, and when Jaemin shows up, the incubus smothers him in a hug. Jaemin melts into it, happy beyond belief to see Jungwoo again. “I missed you so much, pup,” Jungwoo murmurs thickly. A tear or two land on Jaemin’s hair. “You have no idea. I am never letting you out of my sight again.”

Jaemin tightens his grip around Jungwoo’s midriff. “I missed you, too. I wish you could have gone with me. You would have liked it in Andong.” Jaemin tells Jungwoo all about the sprawling hills and the massive space he had to run around, and Jungwoo listens with rapt attention, never once letting go of Jaemin’s hand.

~

Jaemin was hoping to avoid any sort of confrontation, but as it turns out, he can’t always get what he wants.

He’s in the middle of baking cookies with Chenle – the boy has been particularly clingier to him than usual, perhaps his way of apologizing for the way he acted before – when Ten comes into the kitchen and asks to speak to him. The pixy is wearing the most apologetic look he could possibly plaster on his face, but that doesn’t stop Jaemin’s hackles from rising.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Ten. It’s more that he’s… lost trust in him, perhaps more than he has for the others. He, along with Hansol and Yuta, is the only true parental figure he’s had. He doesn’t have a father, or an uncle or a grandfather, and they were the ones to fulfil that space in his life. Ten had just as much as a role in his upbringing as the other two did, even if he came into his life later on.

And to see him turn his back on him like that, regardless of how justified he tries to make it out in his head, doesn’t just go away. It felt like poison being injected into his heart every time Ten rejected him, every time he chose his own understanding of the situation over listening to Jaemin.

Jaemin would lie if he said he’s over it. He tries to move on, and he accepts the apologies, but this isn’t as simple as forgive and forget. Jaemin can do all he can to move on with his life and to repair his relationship with his family, but it’s not even baby steps; at times, it feels like he’s taking snail steps. He can still feel the iciness of the glares he received the last few days in the house, the burning shame that wouldn’t let him show his face outside of his bedroom for longer than it took him to go to the bathroom.

Nevertheless, Ten is looking at him with barely restrained eagerness, almost pleading with his eyes for Jaemin to grant him the chance. Jaemin licks his lips and waits a beat longer before he nods his consent. Ten doesn’t show much on his face, apart from a small grin, but his wings flutter behind him.

Chenle takes the whisk from Jaemin’s hand before he can ask him to do it. The fairy’s lips quirk up on a smile, but all he says is that he’ll watch their cookies while Jaemin’s gone.

The two walk to the back of the house, to the porch. The glass table has some leaves on it, probably from the spring breeze, and there’s a newspaper that’s been abandoned on one of the chairs. Jaemin moves it to the table to take a seat and catches a glimpse of Taeil’s handwriting on the crossword section.

“What did you want to talk about?” Jaemin asks without preamble. His throat is starting to feel parched and he regrets not bringing something to drink.

Ten doesn’t speak right away. He shifts in his seat, wings restrained between his body and the backrest. Jaemin holds back from telling him that they should have sat on the swing, instead, because he doesn’t want - He doesn’t want to be in such proximity to him. At least here, at the glass table, there are three chairs between them.

Jaemin doesn’t speak up, either. It isn’t about being vindictive or shut off or anything of the sort, really, it isn’t. Jaemin’s just… he’s waiting to see what Ten will say. He’d been upset at Ten for not approaching him sooner, even if a part of him thought he could understand.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity but is probably mere minutes, Ten sighs, rubs a hand down his face and says, “You know what I want to talk about, Jaem.”

“Don’t,” Jaemin snaps, harsher than intended, then tries again, “Don’t call me Jaem. Please.”

Ten’s hurt. That much is obvious, from the downturn of his lips to the twitch of his eyebrows. He concedes, though, nodding his head lightly. “Alright. I’m sorry.”

“And, no. I don’t know what you want to talk about,” Jaemin adds. Was that harsh? Perhaps. Is Jaemin getting a sick sort of pleasure watching Ten squirm under his eyes? Yeah. Does that mean he will stop it? Not likely, no. Again, Jaemin isn’t vindictive, but he’s petty. He doesn’t want to torture his hyungs, but he wants to… make them sweat. Consider it an extended version of his rebellious phase.

Ten sighs again. “I want to talk about what happened. I know you said you didn’t want to hear our apologies but what I did is… it isn’t something that can be simply swept under the rug.”

Jaemin remains silent. The breeze ruffles his bangs, reminding him he has to cut his hair soon before he starts to look like a ruffian, in Doyoung’s words. Somewhere inside the house, Sicheng and Chenle cheer loud enough to be heard outside, and seconds later Johnny’s shouting at them to keep it down.

“When I came home that day,” Ten continues, seeing that Jaemin won’t be responding to his statement anytime soon, “I found Jisung in hysterics. He was hyperventilating and wouldn’t let anyone near him. I think I just, I let it be my only perception of what happened. I got so mad at you and didn’t give you a chance to talk or to explain yourself.”

“None of you did,” Jaemin grumbles without meaning to. His cheeks colour as he realises he said it aloud, but it’s too late to take it back.

Ten watches him with something akin to sorry in his eyes. Jaemin averts his gaze and focuses on the leaves on the porch instead. “No, we didn’t. I’m sorry I did that, and I’m sorry I ever suggested you go, I just -”

“What?” Jaemin sits up. “It was you? You said to kick me out?”

“It was never like that,” Ten scrambles to defend himself. “I never meant to kick you out, I meant for you to go someplace else”

“Same shit.” Jaemin is fuming. Under the table, his claws spring to life and he squeezes the seat cushion until he hears it rip. “You wanted me gone.”

Ten gapes at a loss for words. Faintly, Jaemin is aware they’re gathering an audience. Jisung’s head pokes through Johnny’s and Yukhei’s arms from the double doors. Jaemin isn’t paying attention to any of that, however. His eyes are solely trained on Ten, who’s paling more and more with each second. Jaemin has no doubt his irises are bloodshot.

“Jaemin, I swear, it was never about getting rid of you,” Ten insists. “You know how I feel about, about predators, it wasn’t about you.” He’s telling the truth, Jaemin knows, but the anger he’s feeling – the betrayal, the hurt, the heartbreak – don’t allow him to acknowledge that. All he thinks about, all he can think about, is how Ten used to drag Jaemin to bed sometimes with him, comb his hair and whine about whatever Yuta did that day, and how he can’t understand how they could have gone from that to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's still the arc about the angels left, but i was wondering if you guys would prefer i make it a separate fic? i changed the summary of riverside to fit jaemin's arc because it's a huge part of it, and i personally feel it would be best if the angels have their own fic? it would be focused on china line as a whole, especially because they don't get that much screentime, but the main focus will still be the angels! let me know in the comments what you think!


	6. makes me wanna spill my guts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> final chapter! sorry for the cliffhanger in the last chapter, i hope this makes up for it
> 
> title from crush culture by conan grey

Jaemin counts to ten in his head before he speaks again, slowly retracting his claws and releasing the cushion. Some of the filling flutters to the ground and is swept away by the wind. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Hansol approach the table with careful steps. Yuta, too, comes out of the house.

“You didn’t even care to listen to me. You took your prejudices and ran with them without caring to stop and think about me.” Jaemin’s voice borders on a growl at the last word. Ten’s eyes widen at that and he leans back on the chair, as if trying to get away from him. “Fuck you.”

“Jaemin,” Hansol starts. His hand reaches out to Jaemin, to touch his shoulder, but Jaemin shakes him off before the fingers can fully touch him. “Breathe, please. You’re getting worked up.”

Jaemin’s glare changes focus. Hansol staggers back a step or two, shocked. Jaemin ignores the pain in his gums, a tell-tale sign he’s going to be showing fangs soon. There don’t seem to be enough mantras to bring him down from this anger, so he focuses on Hongjoong’s words, how he would look at Jaemin if he were here. How disappointed Yeosang would be if he saw how Jaemin is acting.

“Was this supposed to be an apology?” Jaemin asks Ten. “Because all I’ve heard so far is that you wanted me gone because you don’t like wolves.”

“I do want to apologize,” Ten pleads, “I just wanted you to understand why I behaved that way –”

The chair flies backwards when Jaemin stands up. He hasn’t shifted, he has better control than that, but he’s panting. Ten looks up at him, his eyes round and scared. Jaemin wants to say something else, something mean and scathing, and the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them.

“You just want my blessing for that stupid, phony marriage of yours,” he seethes. Yuta looks like he’s been slapped, but it doesn’t deter him. “Well, guess what. Fuck you.”

Then, Jaemin turns around and leaves.

~

The forest is surprisingly peaceful during the spring. Most animals are just starting to come out of hibernation and don’t seem to remember Jaemin, approaching him to sniff at his feet or his hands when he crouches down to pet them. Where he sits, the sun peeks shyly through the leaves of the trees above him, creating a strange sort of halo around his head.

No one comes after him for a few minutes. Or hours, maybe. Jaemin lost track of time as he ran, and after he found a rock to sit on – just how Hongjoong used to do, except he always had Yunho sprawled across his lap – he didn’t have any interest in seeing or speaking to anyone. Jaemin lets his mind wander; thinking about what the pack might be doing right now, (Is Seonghwa hyung still working on that book or has he finished it already? Did Yeosang finally coax the others to learn CPR, so he isn’t the only one capable of saving them in worst case scenarios?)

Unbidden, San’s face comes to mind. Jaemin tears up, thinking of the life he could have had in Andong, with them, with him. It would have been so much _easier_ \- there would be none of the guilt, none of the regret, none of the pain that comes with looking at his family. Or so he likes to think. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows he would feel ten times the regret and guilt for abandoning them.

Jaemin forces himself to think of something else. But no matter how hard he tries, he keeps coming back to the same thoughts, the same idea that there’s no place where he’ll feel truly happy. He fears he’ll never feel welcomed again, or wanted, because it doesn’t matter how many apologies they give, Jaemin will always remember the harshness of their words and the unbearable pain they caused him. Not to mention, he can’t look Jisung in the face, much less speak to him. He caused Jisung too much grief.

But if he were to leave for Andong – he’d feel like a burden. Hongjoong treated him likes his own, they all did, but they’re a pack and Jaemin was just a guest. A guest they liked, sure, but a guest nonetheless. And it wouldn’t fair to the guys here, either.

Jaemin just doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know if he should stay or if he should go. Frankly, he considers just… leaving. It isn’t the first time he thinks about it, but today the idea is particularly persistent and appealing. Not to Andong, but someplace else, somewhere he can start anew. Somewhere he doesn’t feel burdened by shame. He has money, months and months of allowance and part time jobs accumulated in his bank account because he rarely has to pay for anything himself.

He disregards the idea as quickly as it comes, though. It wouldn’t work out and he knows it. The others would track him down, although he doubts it would happen before he regrets it and comes home by himself.

The bushes rustle behind him. Jaemin doesn’t turn around to check, his senses telling him who it is before they make their presence known. Yuta sits to his right, while Hansol takes his left. Jaemin knew they would come for him, sooner or later. He was just hoping for later.

“What do you want?” Jaemin asks. There’s no bite to it, however. He just sounds tired.

Yuta takes a long, hard look at him before sighing and turning away. “What you said to Ten… that was uncalled for.” Jaemin bristles but keeps his mouth shut. He’s done arguing. “He wasn’t apologizing because he wants your blessing, he was doing it because he feels awful for what he did to you.”

“Then why did he have to make it sound like I was to blame for it?” Jaemin murmurs. “Why couldn’t he just say sorry? Why did he have to remind me of what I did to Jisung?”

“I don’t know,” Yuta admits. “It was shitty of him, trust me, I know.”

“I think,” Hansol pauses, weighing his words carefully, “that he’s scared. He’s scared of the way he treated you. When he talked about how he feels toward predators, I could tell something else happened. But he’s always treated you like his kid, and I think it’s hard for him to conciliate what he thinks of you with what he saw and what he knows of wolves.”

Jaemin doesn’t have anything to say to that. He feels for Ten, and he knows that wild wolves are dangerous, but he isn’t a wild wolf. And he isn’t some random wolf, either. Ten should have known better than that.

Then again, Jaemin was the one to lose control that day. He behaved like a feral animal rather than as a boy or a civilised wolf. Ten was right about that much, at least.

Hansol continues speaking after a beat. “And he does feel bad for doing that to you. He wasn’t lying about that.”

“He said he was the one who suggested you threw me out,” Jaemin’s voice trembles.

Yuta grabs Jaemin’s chin with two fingers and forces him to look at him, his eyes steely. “No one ever said anything about throwing you in the streets.” He speaks slowly, making sure Jaemin understands. “No one. Yes, he said that you were probably too dangerous to still live here, especially with pixies, fairies and whoever the fuck else living with us, but it was always about sending you someplace safe.”

“He still wanted to get rid of me,” Jaemin croaks. He’s starting to cry, his tears rolling down his cheeks and colliding with Yuta’s hand. A few drip down to Yuta’s wrist. “He still wanted me out of here. You all did, I know it.”

“No,” Hansol shushes him, wrapping an arm around Jaemin. Yuta’s other hand goes up too, and now he’s cupping Jaemin’s face, brushing the tears away as they fall. “Jaemin, we would have never let you go anywhere. It was hard enough leaving you in Andong. You’re our cub, we are never abandoning you, alright? Never.”

“Then why didn’t you defend me?” Jaemin sobs. “That day, in the dining room – you just sat there. You didn’t say a word.” Jaemin doesn’t need to clarify which day he means, they know it all too well.

Hansol’s hold on him tightens, to the point where Jaemin thinks he might leave a bruise. Yuta, too, grips his face with urgency. “We’re so sorry about that. We were so ashamed that day.”

“Of me?”

“No!” they deny in unison. Hansol says, “We were ashamed of ourselves, baby. We raised you, we taught you everything you know, and when we came home and found out what happened, we thought it was our fault. We didn’t have the face to say anything, not to you or anyone.”

Jaemin continues to cry for God knows how long. He feels his chest caved in, and the more he cries the emptier he is, until finally he can breathe again. And in the end, Yuta and Hansol are still holding him, their presence comforting and grounding. When he’s finished crying, Hansol spins him around gently and wipes the tears away, leaning his forehead against his.

“You’re our kid,” Hansol tells him gently, “And we’re not letting you anywhere.”

Yuta makes a sound of agreement behind him, combing his hand through Jaemin’s hair. Jaemin whimpers and hides his face in Hansol’s chest, but he isn’t crying anymore. He just feels at peace now, finally. It’s been too long since he had a hug from them and he wants to revel in it, enjoy it for as long as it lasts.

~

They return to a silent home. All the lights seem to be off, except for the ones in the living room and lounge, where everyone else is. Their presence is obvious, all the energy in the house focused in that one space.

Jaemin almost doesn’t want to go inside. It’s too reminiscing of that day, when he walked into a room full of harsh eyes and cold shoulders. This time, however, he has his hyungs with him, flanking him from each side and feeding him the confidence he needs to take the final steps inside. The air con hits him full blast when they enter the living room, making Jaemin shiver in spite of the sweat breaking across his forehead.

Ten is the first to stand up when he sees them. The pixy lurches forward, coming within an arm’s distance of Jaemin before he stops, seemingly rooted to the spot. Jaemin swallows, psyching himself up, and takes a tentative step forward. Ten blinks up at him as his hands clench into fists at his sides, like he’s holding back from reaching out to touch him.

After a second or two, Hansol gives Jaemin a subtle nudge. Jaemin resists the urge to give him the stink eye and instead focuses all his attention on Ten to say, “I forgive you, hyung. Even though you didn’t do a very good job at the whole apologizing thing – I get what you wanted to say.” Jaemin stops and licks his lips, searching for the right words. “It’s not like, like things will go back to normal just like that. I don’t think anything will be entirely the same with any of you, but you’re still my family. I still love you.”

Ten’s lips quiver. He does a valiant attempt at holding back his tears, but he eventually crumbles. Not many tears have spilled out of his eyes when Jaemin pulls him into a tentative hug. He can’t remember the last time he hugged the pixy, his hands fumbling awkwardly when they meet his wings, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with them, but Ten is quickly latching on to him as well and it’s just – it’s easy. Hugging Ten is easy.

They hug for nearly a full minute before Ten pulls away. Ten wipes his eyes and offers Jaemin a wobbly smile, careful as he speaks. “I understand if you don’t want me to… if you don’t want us to do the ritual.”

Jaemin hadn’t given it much thought, if he’s being honest. “What I said earlier, hyung, I didn’t mean it. You binding yourself to them isn’t really something that bothered me, past the initial shock. I only said that because I was angry and wanted to hurt you, but that’s no excuse.”

There’s no mistaking the hope glimmering in Ten’s eyes. Jaemin, acutely aware of the eyes on him, continues, “You do have my blessing. In spite of everything that’s happened, I know how important you are to them. You deserve to be happy.”

Anyone could think Jaemin is proper and collected. In reality, it’s taking everything in him not to cry or stutter, and he doubts his nail beds will ever be the same after all this picking to which he’s subjected them.

The smile Ten gives him, however, is absolutely worth it. Yuta clasps a hand on Jaemin’s shoulder, the pride oozing off him in waves, and Hansol uses a hand to hold onto Jaemin while the other brings Ten in, and soon Jaemin is trapped under their arms, surprisingly similar to his first day back but in a smaller scale. Something’s missing though. Before Jaemin can say it, Yuta pokes his head out of the huddle and says, smile palpable in his voice, “Injun.”

A flurry of wings makes its way inside the circle. Jaemin has barely enough time to shut his mouth before Renjun’s hair can choke him, and he sees Renjun’s blinding smile before they’re being squeezed even tighter by the other three. It’s warm, almost too warm, and one of Jaemin’s hand is squished between Ten’s torso and Renjun’s back, but Jaemin doesn’t want to move.

They do pull apart, after a while, to find that everyone has had the decency to look somewhere else. Jaemin’s still embarrassed, at his tears and at his display of vulnerability just now. Yet, as he meets eyes with Jisung from across the room, the merman smiling gently at him, he thinks it’s a good thing.

Taeil, hesitantly, raises a hand to catch Jaemin’s attention. The human is perched on the arm of the biggest couch, Jeno’s upper body draped over his lap as he dozes on and off in his hold. “Jaemin, if I may, I think we all screwed up here. Never mind three months ago, these past few days haven’t been right.” Taeil considers Jaemin for a moment. “We’ve all tried to go back to what we were, to how we used to treat you, and we didn’t stop to consider that maybe it isn’t as easy as that.”

“He’s right,” Johnny speaks up. Like Taeil, he has a lapful of Yukhei, the shifters used to this kind of treatment. “We’ve been going at this all wrong. All of us, we assumed we could pretend like it didn’t happen. We have to earn your trust again, Jaemin.”

“And I have to earn yours,” Jaemin adds. When they try to disagree, Jaemin shakes his head. “No, no, I do. Especially yours, Jisung. “

Jisung, surprised to be addressed directly by Jaemin after so long, blinks owlishly at him. He gapes, fumbling through his words, “But I do trust you, hyung.”

Jaemin isn’t deterred. “I would still like to try,” he insists. Jisung, seemingly understanding that Jaemin won’t be talked out of it, nods in agreement. “That goes to everyone.”

“You never actually did anything to me, so,” Donghyuck drawls. “I can still beat your ass at Mario Kart, but I can go easy on you, if you want.” It effectively dampens the tension in the room and brings the mood back to something familiar.

Rising to the bait, Jaemin smirks and answers, “I’d love to see you try.”

~

It’s easy to fall back into his daily life.

At first, Jaemin wasn’t sure where, exactly, he fit into anymore, in regards of his family and his friends. Donghyuck, as promised, didn’t treat him any differently, and neither did Jeno or Renjun or Mark. They still got on his nerves, as usual, and they still showered him in affection when he seemed down, as usual. Donghyuck’s hand was eternally attached to his hair, now, always combing it back and away from his forehead; and Jeno went right back to his habit of curling up in cat form on top of him, regardless of what Jaemin was doing.

Renjun keeps joking that they’re gonna be step-brothers soon, although it stops being a joke and more of a reality the closer they are to the date of the ritual. Jaehyun, an expert in love potions, spells and other witchy shenanigans of the sort, works day in and day out with Johnny to find the perfect enchantment.

“It’s supposed to be a soul binding ritual,” Jaehyun explains one morning. While the others are fresh out of bed, he and Johnny look like they didn’t catch a wink of sleep. Johnny’s cheek is red from leaning his head on his fist. “Its effect should be similar to that of the mating bite, except there won’t be a physical reminder.”

His interest piqued, Doyoung leans forward and studies the parchments on the island. Most of the papers are old and smell as if they haven’t seen the light of day in centuries. Jaemin guesses they come from Johnny’s store. “How would that work?”

The easiest way to make Jaehyun light up is to ask him about his spells. The witch glows as he says, “Well, we have to make a potion – Johnny and I are working on it already, but I think we’ll need Mark and probably Hyuck to help – and the potion has to be perfect, it’ll probably take us weeks to have it done, and that’s once we gather all the ingredients,” he rambles on and on, during which Doyoung looks at him with sparks in his eyes. “And then, once we have it, we have to find a band strong enough to withhold being twined over and over on their wrists, a physical manifestation of the ritual.”

Doyoung thinks for a long minute. Jaemin, still eating his cereal (he has a class in half an hour, but he couldn’t be bothered to hurry), watches the cogs turn in Doyoung’s mind and knows what he’s going to say before it even leaves his mouth. “This ritual… could you do it on more than three people?”

Jaehyun’s ears redden, Johnny’s eyes sparkling at the implication. Jaemin takes that as his cue to go.

In university, Jaemin is thankfully up to date with his classes, and he slides into his usual seat next to Sunwoo. Sunwoo offers him half of his sandwich when the lecturer isn’t looking, and after class, they walk together to the labs, throwing jabs at each other the whole time. Jaemin’s friends in college are a mixture of supernaturals and humans, and they had all seemed pleased to see him back. Apparently, the others had fed them the idea that Jaemin was off visiting his birth family and, honestly, that’s an easier lie to uphold than the truth.

Still, Jaemin feels the consequences of his absence when his friends all laugh at an inside joke that he couldn’t possibly understand, because he wasn’t there when it happened. They make sure to fill him – Chaewon always happy to relive other people’s pain – but it isn’t the same.

Jaemin’s relationship with Jisung shows the most development. As Jaemin promised, they worked their way back to being friends, with Jaemin doing everything in his power to keep Jisung happy. Jisung insisted it wasn’t necessary for a few weeks, but now he just accepts Jaemin’s doting attention.

One day, semester nearly over and Jaemin severely sleep deprived, Jisung comes into his room, plops down on his bed, and asks him, “Hyung, are you ever gonna ask me out?”

Needless to say, Jaemin reels his head back in shock. The textbook in his grip goes tumbling to the ground, where it lands with a soft thud. Jisung, for all the fake bravado he musters, fidgets nervously on his spot.

“Uh,” Jaemin says intelligently. “What?”

Jisung seems conflicted, but he powers on. “Before you left, we were doing so well. I thought you were going to ask me on a date, but then you got jealous over Woochul – which makes no sense, by the way, he’s as straight as a ruler – and you left and now… now you keep treating me with kid gloves.”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to,” Jaemin blurts out. “After everything that’s happened.”

Jisung rolls his eyes at him, the exasperation palpable. “You’re so stupid,” he mutters, then he’s grabbing Jaemin by the collar of the shirt and pulling him in.

They’re _kissing._

Jaemin thinks he should kiss back, but he’s too shocked. Jisung releases him after a few seconds of unresponsiveness, frowning, but Jaemin doesn’t give him time to think he’s rejecting him, cupping Jisung’s nape and dragging him back into another kiss.

Afterward, Jaemin huffs against Jisung’s lips and asks, “Go on a date with me?”

“Took you long enough,” Jisung grumbles.

~

Sicheng isn’t the least surprised when he hears the news. Well, he rather barges into the news, laundry basket at his hip as he comes into Jaemin’s room, unannounced. He gapes at the two, his mouth slowly changing into a grin, and Jaemin fears in his gut what’s about to happen. The dragon’s forked tongue comes out to lick at his lips before he says, “What a development, whoever could have seen it coming?”

Then, yellow eyes glinting, he spins around and runs out of the room, hissing for Kun to, “Come look at this shit!”

Kun enters the room and spins around, scandalized, dragging Sicheng out as well. Sicheng goes cackling the entire way. Later, the three angels march into the room, too, and create a human barrier between the two. Dejun’s taking his job very seriously, looking properly horrified to hear there was making out going on in here, and Kunhang seems sheepish to be interrupting, but Yangyang only offers Jaemin a lazy grin. “Sorry, dude. Kun insisted, something about protecting your dignities.”

“Does he have to make it sound like that?” Jisung whines, hiding behind Jaemin. Kunhang’s lips twitch in amusement.

Dejun, without looking at them, says, “Trust me; I don’t want to be here either.” His ears are pink. Jaemin feels bad for him, knows that Dejun isn’t used to such displays of affection –Yangyang grew into the hugs and hand holding like it was a second nature, and Kunhang was slowly opening up more and more to any and all advances, but Dejun still runs like the Devil is on his ass when anyone touches him for more than a few seconds – but he’s still pissed off they were interrupted.

“There’s no need to look like that,” Yangyang laughs. “They were just kissing, Jun. It’s not anything out of the ordinary.”

Dejun doesn’t answer that. Kunhang pats his knee to console him. Yangyang laughs at him again and sends Jaemin a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> due to popular vote, the angels will have their own fic, you can read it [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23864857)
> 
> thank you to everyone that read this, thank you for all your comments and kudos and encouragement, it means the world to me 💚💚
> 
> this fic's [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1E78wS4fPuTjtBL326MMaJ?si=Dz2Sgv9fSgaFwnebYhGDAw)

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and that you will enjoy the second to last installment of the spn au!!


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